Friendly Fire
by abovethenightsky
Summary: AU, 2009. Light's on trial, the Kira case closed for good, until someone steals the Death Notes. Reluctantly, L turns to his old enemy and three new allies for assistance. Can they solve the case? Or will the new Kira prevail? No OCs, pairings inside.
1. A Trial

"_And I believe, this may call for a proper introduction, and well  
__Don't you see? I'm the narrator__, and this is just the prologue…  
Swear to shake it up if you swear to listen  
Oh, we're still so young, desperate for attention  
I aim to be your eyes."_

_- Panic! at the Disco, "The Only Difference between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage"_

**1 - A Trial**

A trial is the most useless thing in the world.

Kira had all but eliminated them. Sure, there were still those who needed to be tried for their various misdemeanors: a traffic ticket, perhaps, or a shoplifting charge, petty crimes which did not merit the death penalty by anyone's standards. But when Kira judged the world, anything serious passed in front of his eyes or, occasionally, an extension thereof. The slow, painful, useless judiciary systems had become a thing of the past, not just in Japan, but around the world, and some people thought that the world was better off for it.

And now Light Yagami, Kira, had been put on trial, subjected to the very system he had tried to eliminate, or to purify.

Some, the people that had silently but unwillingly endured his six-year reign, came out to say that he deserved a trial, even though he had denied so many that very right. Others, the ones who had been more vocal during his regime, called for an immediate execution, a criminal's death. He'd sentenced so many to the same fate, they argued. It would only be fair. Still others did not care that Kira had finally been captured—the world had been better off with him around, a safer place, and they wanted him to continue judging without being judged.

Anyone in the world, Kira supporter or Kira hater, would have given anything to be in that courtroom the Kira trials began.

Hardly anyone _was_ present, much to Light Yagami's disappointment. The media was utterly barred from the courtroom. Too much excitement, too much at stake. Kira's true identity had not yet been disclosed to the public, for his safety, and the safety of those close to him, and the officials in charge were certain that admitting the press would completely invalidate this policy. They would receive the verdict, of course, and the courtroom transcripts after the trial, but it would be better for everyone if they kept out for awhile.

Kira's trial was no ordinary trial. The United Nations, after a few weeks of debate, had decided to appoint five judges from five powerful countries (Russia, China, the United States, Japan, and Britain) to preside over the trial. This was a global affair. The chief prosecutor would be Japanese, of course, since Japan had been "hardest hit" by Kira's regime, and since Kira himself was Japanese.

Light insisted on defending himself, much to everyone's surprise. His official career was law _enforcement_, not law _practice_, but he was a skilled speaker and, as everyone involved could see, all too confident. The first day of the trial, he sat in the courtroom, poised, neat, and handsome in a tailored suit, looking incredibly calm, and, somehow, bored.

Kira was bored by his own trial.

But of course he was. Light knew very well that his execution was inevitable; it was why he hadn't bothered with a lawyer. Lawyers were slimy, manipulative. A lawyer would have tried to worm Light of the charges, trying to claim that he was innocent, or framed. Exactly the opposite of what Light wanted.

If he had to go, he would argue his ideas to anyone who would listen until he was sent to the electric chair. Better to die a martyr than live, scorned as a coward.

When the other side had the Death Notes, that was.

Light watched the chief prosecutor and his assistants scurry about with very little interest. Whatever they did now didn't mean anything, because they had the notebooks, the key to his conviction. Misa's, too, for that matter, although she was being tried after him. They both had one man to thank for that.

That man sat alone, at the back of the courtroom, curled up in his seat, and Light met his eyes fiercely, fearlessly. He barely even registered that he'd stood as the judges entered the courtroom, he was so focused. His fists clenched and unclenched in his pockets.

L smiled. _Damn_ him.

Light sank back down as the Chief Judge—the American, of course—banged his gavel and opened the trial. Nothing much would happen today: Light's crimes were being read. In the past six years, there were thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of so-called murders that he was at least indirectly responsible for. The reading of the list of names would take at least three days. The prosecution would open, then, begin calling witnesses, presenting evidence, and that's when things would begin to get interesting. But for now, while there was nothing else to do, Light could continue to look stonily ahead, seemingly bored, actually locked in a staring match with L.

L wasn't smiling anymore—Light couldn't be sure of that, after all, as that corner of the courtroom was rather dark, just as L wanted—but he was staring back at Light with the same measured intensity, and Light wondered just what he was thinking about.

* * *

_"Rem-san?"_

_L stared blankly as the Shinigami turned toward him, silent as the grave._

_"You care for Misa-san a lot, don't you?"_

_Rem seemed surprised, the first time L had seen her face betray any emotion. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, in her low, deep voice, slowly, carefully._

_"I saw the way you looked at the monitors when she came to visit Light-kun." L nibbled the edge of a strawberry, ever-alert, watching her for any reaction. "You don't need to deny it. I can't implicate her as the Second Kira through your feelings, whatever they may be."_

_Rem paused. When her reply came, it was sharp, cold. "It isn't that." _

_"I see." L paused, thinking. "Do you think I will manipulate you, using her as bait?"_

_"I don't know what to think," the Shinigami admitted. "I thought all humans were the same, but since I've come down here, seen for myself how you act, all I know now is that humans are unpredictable. You seem to be no exception, L Lawliet."_

_L didn't outwardly react to hearing his true name spoken aloud; inwardly, though, it chilled him. How very, very easily she could kill him. This was the only way. "Well, I don't know if this will mean anything to you," he said. "But I promise you that I won't kill Misa-san."_

_"How can you—"_

_"She isn't the one I want to convict," L said simply._

_"Light Yagami?"_

_"As always."_

_Rem was not surprised by this at all. "I thought he was innocent."_

_"I don't think so. My theory: Light Yagami is the first Kira, Misa Amane is the second Kira," he explained. "It fits, except for the thirteen day rule. I suspect that Light-kun's manipulating all of us somehow, that he knows I'm set on catching him, and that I plan to test this rule." Rem did not react to this news either. "And I expect he thinks that, if I find that the rule is fake, it will increase the suspicion on Misa-san, since criminals are still being killed and Light-kun cannot be using the Death Note now. I saw how you reacted to her entrance a few days ago, Rem-san. If you do feel strongly about Misa-san, as I suspect you do, then Light-kun thinks you'll intervene on Misa-san's behalf, and kill me to save her life."_

_L watched as Rem glanced at the monitor. After the handcuffs had been removed and stored away, L had had Watari secretly install a camera in Light's bedroom, so that L could better monitor him. The boy was most definitely sleeping now, just like everyone else in Headquarters. Almost ironic, how very angelic he looked, snuggled up against that pillow. How very, very young, how innocent Light Yagami looked, with the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, with his expressive eyes closed._

_"Is _that_ what he wants?" she murmured._

_"If he's Kira," L replied. "But I don't intend to kill Misa-san, so your intervention won't be necessary."_

_She looked skeptical._

_"Light-kun is the one I want to catch. I promised you."_

_"A promise means very little nowadays." The Shinigami glanced back at Light. "What will you do instead?"_

_"I will find some other way to get to him," L said. "He's slipping up. If he thought he'd catch me here…I'll wait as long as it takes, Rem-san. As long as it takes."_

* * *

Light didn't know why, but L shook his head, blinked, and smiled at him again. Fond memories, apparently. Light looked away, disgusted.

He thought he never hated L more than he did at this very moment. Not when L had revealed himself, had humiliated him on his first day of college. Not when L sat across from him in the coffee shop, taunting him, trying to make him slip up. Not when L stole Misa's cell phone and proceeded to capture Misa herself, making Light think that it was game over. _That_ wasn't game over, _that_ was only the beginning. They had fice more years of fighting left after that. Light gripped the arm of his chair, his knuckles white, staring straight ahead. Anyone watching would think it was from hearing the names of all of his victims.

"…the murder of Kurou Otoharada, the murder of Kiichiro Osoreda…"

L was still smirking. God_damn_ him. He ruined _everything._ Light had no idea why his scheme with Rem failed, but the man must have had something to do with it. From there, it had gone so wrong, five years of a downward spiral. L was supposed to have died on November 5th, 2004. He wasn't supposed to have kept investigating Light. He wasn't supposed to have discovered the piece of Death Note that Light kept on him at all times, in his watch. Light was supposed to win. _Light_ was.

And now, L was sitting smugly on the other side of the room, the expression on his face making Light want to do things to him that would probably be very painful and definitely unacceptable in a courtroom.

"…the murder of Naomi Misora, the murder of Raye Penber…"

Yes. Penber and Misora, FBI agents from way back when. Those early days, those were the good ones. Light had been in complete control. And then…then Rem hadn't killed L, and L had proved the thirteen day rule. That alone wouldn't convict Light, of course, not by itself. Light expected L to move in on Misa then, but he hadn't. Instead, he spent five years waiting, pursuing other courses of action, constantly confusing Light, keeping him on his toes. After five years…

Light leaned back in his seat and thought about the night that marked the beginning of the end.

* * *

_"Oh, Light!" Misa squealed, clutching his arm for warmth. "It was so nice of Ryuzaki to let you off for a night. Misa never gets to spend any time with her Light anymore. Dinner was great, wasn't it?"_

_"Mhm." Light was barely listening. Ryuk and Rem hovered behind them, invisible to most, and his thoughts were focused on them rather than on the girl at his side._

_Rem had been very distracted lately, and Light could guess at why. Misa's lifespan had been so severely reduced by her two eye trades that she was bound to run out of time sometime soon. Light had been intentionally spending more time with Misa lately so that Rem would be there when she was supposed to die and find a way to save her. He knew Rem wanted to protect Misa, and if he somehow stopped her from doing that, she would kill him. Well, he wasn't going to stop her. In fact, Light wanted to be there when Rem died, to collect her notebook before anyone else could get their hands on it._

_Rem's eyes had been on Misa the entire night. Light knew he was getting close._

_"So what do you want to do now?" Misa asked, tugging on his sleeve. "We could go back to my apartment, really get things rolling…I bought the cutest little outfit the other day. I think you'll like it." She winked._

_"Hyuk hyuk," Ryuk chuckled from behind them. Rem, as usual, was silent._

_The street they walked was practically empty. They were walking by an alleyway—dark, how cliché—when Misa suddenly grabbed Light's arm a little more tightly. "I thought I heard something," she whispered._

_"It's nothing," Light said. He saw Rem stiffen out of the corner of his eye, and then looked into the alleyway to notice, too late, a man with a gun, emerging from the shadows._

_Misa shrieked._

_"Shut up!" the man snapped, clearly nervous. The hand holding the gun shook a little. An amateur crook, then. The worst kind. Most likely to fire the gun by accident. He pointed his weapon at Misa. "Shut up, lady, I'm warning you."_

_Misa did as she was told. She trembled. Perhaps she remembered the murder of her parents, at gunpoint, by a burglar, so similar to this. Pity she wasn't thinking more clearly. She had the eyes. If she had had the Death Note on her—but she never took it out of the house, for safety._

_"Now, hand over your things." He motioned at them._

_Light was not going to comply. How could he? It was beneath his dignity. He couldn't bring himself to feel that he was in any real danger. If worse came to worse, he had Misa, and the piece of Death Note in his watch._

_Luckily for him, Rem didn't know that. He swore he could hear her writing._

"_I wou__ldn't do this if I were you," Light muttered. "Not with Kira around. Aren't you afraid of judgment?"_

_"You picked a hell of a time to get ideological on us, Light," Ryuk said, chuckling. "Humans are so _fascinating_."_

_"I've got to eat somehow, man," the robber countered. "Hand it over, now, starting with that nice watch on your wrist."_

_"No," Light said. "I can't do that. I _won't._"_

_"Do it!" The man was nearly yelling, now, panicked, confused. His hand trembled even more. "Do it before I shoot your little girlfriend."_

_Then several things happened at once. Misa shrieked again, but not because she was being threatened. The robber's eyes widened, and he dropped his gun in surprise. It hit the ground and discharged accidentally, the bullet hitting a trashcan. The potential robber's hands clutched at his shirt, at his heart, and he looked up at Light's face, disbelieving. Light smirked, and the other man collapsed on the ground at Misa's feet. She stepped back, appalled. Behind them, Rem dissolved, silently, without protest, into a pile of sand._

_"Woah," Ryuk said._

"_What—Light, what—" Misa couldn't even get the question out without choking back a sob._

_Light looked behind him. Sure enough, Rem's note lay on the ground, free for the taking. Shaking off Misa's hands, he picked it up, ignoring Ryuk's laughter completely. "It's Rem," he said, staring at the notebook. "She did this. She did it for you."_

_"Oh!" Misa's hands flew to her mouth. "Rem…she's…gone?"_

_"I want you to get back home," Light said sharply. "You and Ryuk. I can't…I'm not in the mood to come home with you, Misa, I'm sorry. We all need to leave before anyone asks any questions. I'm going back to Headquarters."_

_"I…oh, Rem." Misa stepped back from the pile of sand, and from the robber, not quite sure where to go. "Light, can't you…can't you stay?"_

_"I have to tell Ryuzaki. He'll get suspicious." Light looked around cautiously, then kissed her on the forehead. "Go home. Be careful. Here—" He tore a piece out of Rem's notebook. "In case you need it."_

_It took him very little time to get back to Headquarters. Light knew the way by heart, now. He breezed through security and made his way to the computer room. Only L was still awake, staring at a blank monitor, unblinking, in that strange way of his. When Light entered, he turned around in his office chair and stared at Light curiously, as if something was missing._

_"Where's Rem-san?"_

_Light looked away. "She's dead."_

_"How unfortunate," L said coldly, unsympathetically, rising from his seat. "I'm very sorry to hear that. Still, I suppose it's for the best."_

_"What? How?" Was this another trap? _Could_ it be?_

_"I have been waiting," L explained. "It's now safe to arrest Misa-san once again."_

_Light stepped back. "Ryuzaki, what are you talking about? You've been following Misa for years. She should be clear—"_

_"No one is clear." L's tone was incredibly firm. "Stay where you are, Light-kun. I'm going to need to question you next." He pressed a button on his desk. "And don't try to run away," he said. "Security has been alerted."_

_"You can't prove anything," Light hissed._

_"We'll see." L smiled and walked toward him. "I've been waiting a long time for this day, you know."_

_"Ryuzaki, what's wrong with you?"_

_"Nothing." He grabbed Light's wrist and looked up into his eyes. "Kira."_

* * *

L was still staring, and Light couldn't bring himself to look away, as if looking away would, somehow, mean that he lost. He wasn't going to lose. Not again, not now. Not at this pointless trial.

He knew how he was going to defend himself. It would be futile to deny the existence of the Death Notes. The prosecution had too much evidence and too many witnesses. Whether people would believe them regardless, was, of course, up to debate, but Light knew better than to press an issue that was already settled.

No, Light was planning to go out defending his righteousness. Not a legal defense, not a technical one, but a moral one. At least _one_ of the judges must sympathize with Kira, even a little—his popularity had exploded worldwide over the past few years. A couple of the countries prosecuting him now had publicly bowed to him, only to retract their statements. Cowards. Even if no one did support him, all of his arguments would focus on the intent of Kira's actions. It wouldn't get him off, but it would satisfy him. If he defended his ideals, if he could make one of these idiot judges see, if he could make the world see, through his testimony, even after his execution, what Kira stood for, what he tried to do—

Why, then, he would be immortal.

That's why Light Yagami smiled as he was escorted from the trial that day, despite everything. That's why he was confident, even as he transported back to his cell for another restless, sleepless night. Insane? Perhaps. Contented? Definitely.

Because Light Yagami had a purpose. He would die on his own terms, and Kira's story wouldn't be over. Not for the rest of the world, not if people still followed him.

The thought was enough to keep the smile on Light's face.

And, elsewhere, something happened which would make Light smile just a little bit more.

That night, someone stole the Death Notes.

* * *

_A/N: I said it would be up, and, lo and behold, it's up! Thank goodness my internet is holding up._

_I'm not really in the habit of doing those song/quote things at the beginning of chapters, but this chapter, quite honestly, would not exist if I hadn't browsed iTunes and spotted that (oddly appropriate) song title, which reminded me that I needed to finish the damn beginning of my story. Maybe I'll start with the quotes. They're sort of fun._

_Decided to put the Author's Note at the end, too, so I didn't detract from the beginning of the story. Couple of matters of business:_

_Potential Pairings: L&Light (but they hate each other!), Matt&Mello (but they haven't been introduced yet!), Matsuda&Sayu (not enough of this exists. There should be more). Potential means potential. Stick around and see._

_Also, the person who stole the Death Notes? Not an OC. But you'll have to wait for that too. :(_

_Ooh, there'll also be lots of (read: 8) POV changes, trying to get everyone involved._

_Thanks to my lovely betas, Lena and Amy._

_Have fun! Next chapter should be up in about a week, so Saturday? Sunday? Something like that. Maybe sooner, if you review._

_Much love,_

_D_


	2. Imprisonment

_A/N: So I totally _planned_ on putting this chapter up on Saturday, but, hey, summer's coming, I have more time, and I finished it early. Yay!_

_Thanks to **Sarahfreak, TheRecorder, thexamimi, Charli Quinn** (wins award for winningest penname), **Sam Brody or Moon Princess, Shadow-L-Chan, WithABunny, No name, C Elise, Hello-Harlequin, Roku8Cookie, Xhadow Kiss,** and **judikickshiney** for reviews! Phenomenal response to the first chapter!_

_Hmm, who _did _steal those Death Notes? Well, that's the question, isn't it? This chapter, it offers some clues…-cough-gives it away-cough- so see if you have a guess. Guess the real question is how said individual stole the Notes, which is revealed later on._

_Have a great week, enjoy the sun, and I think I'll be seeing you on Saturday this time. Honestly._

_D_

* * *

_"He doesn't look a thing like Jesus,  
But he talks like a gentleman."_

_- The Killers, "When You Were Young"_

**2 - Imprisonment**

Misa despised everything about captivity. Not just because it brought back unpleasant memories from her first imprisonment, under Ryuzaki's surveillance (_could barely move then, too, tied up like that, what a pervert_), but because she was kept in the dark, so to speak. No one would tell her anything about Light, no matter how much she begged, and pleaded, and pestered, and no one would let her wear anything other than this awful prison uniform, and she felt so small and weak and pathetic but she couldn't break so soon, no, she wouldn't. Light needed her to be strong.

True, she didn't know where or how he was, but his trial couldn't possibly be over yet, because surely they would call her up as some kind of witness or something. And afterwards she would have her own trial. Why she and Light were being tried separately she didn't quite understand – were the officials afraid they might hatch some kind of plan if they had a chance to confer? Well, she wanted nothing more than to see Light, and it was true that she would willingly do anything he said, but she didn't see how even he could get either of them out of this mess. Her attorneys were doing their best for her, but Light had insisted on representing himself, going it alone. She didn't _want_ him to, and why wouldn't he accept her help? She only wanted to be with him. She only wanted them to share the same fate.

Being stuck in this cell, this miserable little cell, it was so oppressive that Misa felt like crying. They barely ever let her out, barely ever, and she just wanted to get _away_, get _out_, and run to wherever Light was. Who could blame her for the way her heart fluttered in her ribcage when she heard the guard unlock the door?

"Come with me," the guard said. "Someone is here for you."

"Someone?" Misa asked. "Are they here about the case? Are they here to—"

"Come _on_." The guard grabbed her arm (_rudely, forcefully, why wouldn't these people let her be?_) and pulled her up, almost forgetting to remove the bindings around her legs, and towing her down the blank, unremarkable hallway. Everything looked the _same_ here, the doors marked with names she didn't know if she wanted to understand, the blank faces of the guards they passed in the hallway, and Misa wanted to scream, kick, _anything_, she wanted to see Light, Light…

She and the guard took an elevator down, she didn't know how many floors and after a few more turns they came to a door. They stopped (_this was it? It looked just like every other room_) and the guard opened the door, letting Misa enter first.

Just like everywhere else in this godforsaken building, this room was unremarkable, nearly empty except for the table in the middle. There was an unoccupied chair on one side, so she assumed it was for her, and sat in it with a huff of impatience. Across from her sat a man, tall, dark, strangely professional, and Misa was certain she had never seen him before in her life, but the first words out of his mouth were:

"I am a friend. Do you remember me?"

Initially taken aback, Misa had to think carefully about how she answered his question: the prison guard was hovering over her shoulder (_so close, too close, would anyone let her have her space?_), listening to every word she said. Surely there was something illegal about that? Better not to think about it. She had to concentrate harder because, in truth, she did not remember the man at all, but something in the way he was looking at her, with a sort of expectation that he could barely hide, told her that he needed to pretend. He _had_ to have been someone important, someone relevant; after all, they didn't let just anyone in to see her. Hardly anyone knew of her imprisonment in the first place. So he couldn't have been just anybody, this tall, serious man, and he wanted her to recognize him. Well, she was curious, so she would have to act. She was good at that.

"No," she said slowly, blankly. "No, it's…Misa is so confused, so alone, Misa isn't sure of anything anymore…Misa is so tired…"

Misa could tell that this was the response that he wanted, a neutral one, when his shoulders seemed to relax the slightest bit. She maintained her façade, trying her best to act like some sort of shy, skittish animal, waiting for him to speak. She noticed that his eyes seemed to gleam behind his glasses.

"I'm assisting the counsel for your defense, Amane-san. We've met previously. Do you honestly not remember me?"

No, no. That wasn't right. This man was not associated with her lawyer in any way. She had met all of the people who would be representing her, or helping her, and they all sort of looked the same to her, but she would have remembered if they looked like this dark man in his dark suit. What was he up to? _Was_ he a reporter in disguise? Was he going to expose her? Beginning to panic, Misa opened her mouth again, this time to say that she wanted nothing to do with him, when he added, "I need to talk with you about Light Yagami. It's urgent. I want to help him."

_Light_. He knew about Light. He wanted to help Light. So he _had_ to be an insider on the case, or someone important, because while Kira's capture had been made public, Light's name had not been released. _Light_. She nodded dumbly, and the guard, who apparently was been looking for some kind of extra affirmation of the man's identity, took that as the signal to exit the room. Dealings between a lawyer and his client were confidential, after all. Now Misa could ask all of the questions that she wanted, free of those ever-present eavesdropping ears.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Misa nearly jumped out of her chair and, slamming her palms against the table, she leaned over and peppered him with questions. "Who are you? How do you know about Light? Is he safe? Is he alright? Will he get to—"

"Amane-san." The voice which cut her off was sharper, more severe, and Misa stopped talking immediately, knowing a warning when she heard one. "Thank you. Sit down. Remember that I am the one asking the questions, and what I have come to ask you is of great importance to both of us."

"And to Light?"

The stranger's mouth curved into a smile (_he was different when he smiled, but and it was in a good way, Misa thought_). "Yes. And to Light. To Kira." He paused. "You _do_ worship him, don't you?"

"I _love _him," Misa said defensively. "Misa isn't one of those crazy cult followers. I'd love him even if he weren't Kira. I'd do anything for him."

Ryuk was chuckling in the corner, a harsh, grating sound. Misa had almost forgotten he was there, he was being so quiet, but of course, he was always there, except for when he inexplicably went out flying, whenever he was bored. Maybe now things were getting interesting for him. She was momentarily distracted and almost didn't notice the man flinch. "Well. If you truly love him, you'll tell me all that I need to know."

She crossed her arms and set her lips in a pout. "How does Misa know you'll really help him?"

"Because I worship him too," the man said, and he spoke in a low voice, but passionately. "And believe me, Misa Amane, what I intend to do _will_ help him, whatever position he is currently in. It will shift attention and blame away from him." He shifted slightly, as if to get more comfortable. "The officials will be willing to prolong his life if they believe he will be of use to them."

Misa sank back in her chair, feeling as if she had been punched in the gut. Never before had Light's imprisonment seemed to have so much meaning, she hadn't _really _realized all of the implications…dying always seemed so distant. "They're going to kill him," she whispered breathlessly. "They're going to kill my Light."

"I don't think so. Not now." He leaned over the table and looked her straight in the eyes. "Do we have an agreement?"

An agreement. He _was_ a lawyer, some kind of lawyer, even if he wasn't hers. He must have been. The tone he used, as if he were always trying to convince her, the way he held himself. He would help Light. Misa's shoulders shook (_she felt so small, she felt so weak, Light, she wanted to help Light_) as she said, "Yes, yes, I'll tell you anything you want."

He bowed his head. "Kir—Light and I are very grateful."

Ryuk was laughing again, and Misa tried to ignore him, but the stranger cocked his head to the side with mild interest, as if he could hear the grating laughter of the Shinigami. Misa barely registered that and asked him, "What do you want from me?"

Lowering his voice even further, the man said, "Tell me everything you know about the Death Notes."

* * *

Light could tolerate everything about his imprisonment except the walls of his cell. Certainly, having his arms and legs bound was a nuisance, and the guard always present outside of his cell was distracting, and the cameras reminded him of the early days he had spent under L's surveillance, but the walls, those would get to him before anything else. The blank, white walls, smooth and solid. These seemed like the walls of an insane asylum, and he wasn't insane, not yet. He was getting closer every moment he spent in this cursed cell, but he wasn't there _yet_, and he knew he wouldn't be that far gone for awhile.

To escape boredom and insanity, he made sure to keep his mind active, to run over and over his arguments for the court, and to constantly, uselessly, formulate a new way to break out of his bindings, overpower the guard, and escape. With nowhere else to look, he would stare up at the bleak, white ceiling until it swam with little black dots before his eyes. All of his plans were highly idealized, of course. He was in a high-security prison—the location probably a secret, so even if he escaped he wouldn't know where the hell he was or how to get anywhere—and the authorities weren't about to let him slip through their fingers now that they had him. Every possible precaution had been taken to keep him safely locked away, where he could do "no further harm."

Truthfully, Light knew that the odds of him escaping were slim to none. No, no use worrying about the odds, he was starting to sound like L, and he wanted nothing less than that. He didn't want to _die_, his reign had been too short, he still had many years ahead of him, but he had resigned himself to execution. Although he was always looking for a way out, he realized that there was no other realistic outcome, unless he could convince those soft-hearted pacifists judges of his righteousness. Some of them _must_ support his cause. But the way the trial was progressing…

The trial. Light's sense of time was askew from being shut off from natural light—night and day looked the same to him now—and denied his watch, but surely the officers would have come to escort him to his trial. He needed to get cleaned up, changed. He would have asked the guard for the time, but the officers had told him the previous day that he would be under strict orders not to answer any of Light's inquiries, and after some fruitless attempts Light found this to be all too true. Perhaps he was overreacting. Perhaps it was still the early morning. He had slept, but of course he had no way of telling how long, so he rested his head against the wall and waited.

It was only a few minutes before Light heard approaching footsteps echo through the hallway. But they were solitary; when the officers came for him, they always came in twos or threes, to make sure they could overpower him if he tried to bolt. These footsteps had a familiar shuffling quality to them, Light noticed as they grew louder, grew closer, and he consciously straightened, making himself as tall and dignified as it was possible to be when tied up in a prison cell, suddenly very alert. Upon hearing the footsteps, the guard, who had been staring off into space, also started, and Light heard the keys jingle as he fumbled with them, and then a click as he found the right one, turned it in the lock, and opened it without a word.

"Thank you," said L. "You may go."

Light lifted his head even higher as he followed L's progress across the room with his eyes alone. The world's three greatest detectives—his greatest enemy—had seen the stool that in the corner of Light's cell, usually useless. He climbed onto it carefully, to avoid upsetting it, and perched there like some awkward, disheveled bird, toes gripping the edge. He looked at Light rather blankly, as he almost always did, and Light glared back at him, proud, fierce, and defiant. Yet, L didn't say a word to him for a few minutes, seemingly content to study Light, although he had only just seen him yesterday in courtt. L usually had an unnerving habit of looking right through people, but now he was clearly focusing on Light, the prisoner, which was more unnerving than anything else.

Light found it hard to merely wait around for L to state his purpose, so he broke the tense silence with, "Have you come to gloat? Or do you have something to say?"

L didn't react, except to thoughtfully pull at his lower lip. Light remembered, of course, that the detective was always fidgeting; how could he forget? It seemed impossible to believe that he had ever found Ryuga—Ryuzaki—whatever the hell his name was, just L, anything other than irritating. His voice was characteristically deadpan as he said, "Don't let imprisonment cloud your judgment. I would not come to gloat, Light-kun. I find gloating to be so...petty."

"_Don't call me Light-kun,_" Light hissed, bristling. _Smug bastard_. "Stop pretending you're above everyone. You're just as human as anyone else. You like seeing me like this, don't you? Bound and chained at your feet. You just wanted to come and see me helpless."

"Don't be crude," L said, utterly unfazed. "I'd never be foolish enough to think you helpless, or expect you to beg forgiveness, or confess your sins. I'm here on a matter of business."

"Business?" Light laughed, coldly, ironically. He couldn't imagine L needed to know anything more about his case, so was the detective coming to ask him for help? "What 'business' could you possibly have with me? My case is over. Done with. Closed. I'm uninteresting to you now, just another file in the drawer."

"True." Hearing L dismiss him so lightly, so easily, angered Light, though he wouldn't dare to show it. He wasn't truly beaten _yet_. He wasn't convicted _yet_. "But I was hoping you could help me…shed some light on something," L continued. "So to speak."

"You _do_ want assistance," Light sneered. "I thought so. What reason would I possibly have to help you?"

"I don't know, perhaps if you cooperate with me I might use my influence to persuade the government to reduce the severity of your sentence."

"What, lifetime confinement instead of the death penalty? You wouldn't. I know you too well."

L set his hands on his knees, his toes flexing. "Perhaps I would, just to spare you the victory of making your point. I'd rather see you live a long, dull life than die a martyr." Light glared. "Be that as it may, Light-kun, I believe this particular matter will be of some personal interest to you. It seems that someone has stolen the Death Notes."

Light did not let his expression betray any excitement or surprise, although he felt both, and he merely said, "Both of them? Well. That is interesting."

"Quite," L agreed. "The thief clearly knew what he was doing. He, or she, I suppose, I have known of many female burglars, was careful to leave no physical evidence, that we have found, fingerprints, anything of the kind, and there are no signs of a forced entry. Whoever stole the Notes must have been a professional, or—"

"Someone who had access to the building to begin with," Light finished. "Yes, I see. Or someone who had the resources to hire a professional thief. But few people know of the Death Note, and even fewer fit those qualifications."

"Exactly," L said. "Although it's remarkably hard to keep anything quiet these days. There have been whispers on the Internet of the existence of a Death Note, but they have largely been dismissed as conspiracy theories." He sat quietly, then, and waited for Light to make the next move.

Light took his eyes off of L and looked at the ceiling, smiling. "If someone believed those whispers…or someone else has a change of heart…" he mused. "It seems that someone had decided to continue my work. Kira will live on after all. You've failed."

"Oh, only temporarily." L studied him curiously, and Light almost thought he caught a gleam of pity in the other man's eyes, as if he were sorry that Light was so fixated on cementing his legacy and allowing that to cloud his judgment. He probably was, too. "Is that really what you think? The Death Note has been missing for almost eighteen hours, and no criminals have yet been killed."

Light closed his eyes and said with an impossible confidence, "Wait. It's only a matter of time."

L was not satisfied. "It could be someone like Higuchi. Someone using the Note for personal gain only, who cares nothing for your ideals."

"No, L. I don't think that's the case."

"If you say so," L said, utterly expressionless. "Time will tell. And if that _is_ the case, Light-kun, then the investigation will proceed accordingly. If it _does_ prove to be the case, I thought that—"

"I will not aid you in any way, shape, or form. I will not help you decipher any clues, I will not make any deductions, I will not help you form a fucking psychological profile of the new Kira. You will have to proceed without me." Light was glaring again. L dared to insult him by even _asking_, knowing full well that Light would never join him. Stubborn to the end, he refused to let himself be humiliated again. "You operate alone. You _enjoy_ operating alone. Wouldn't asking me to help you mean you've lost already?"

"No. It simply means that I want this case to be solved quickly, by any means."

Light turned away.

"Very well," L said. He stretched his legs, first one, then the other, slowly, carefully. Once both of his feet rested safely on the ground, he turned to Light, as strange-looking as ever, with his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward. "Your trial has been postponed until the Notes are recovered. I will return if there are any developments that I feel are important enough to share with you." He took a few steps toward the door, then paused. "I ask that you consider my offer seriously, Light-kun. I would hate to see your mind go to waste calculating implausible ways to break out of a prison cell."

That _bastard_. It was like a slap in the face. Before Light could find a retort, the detective was out the door, motioning for the guard to return. Light could see him speaking in a low voice into a cell phone, no doubt to Watari, before the door closed completely. A key turned in the lock, and he was alone again.

Light sat watching the door until the meaning of their conversation struck him in full. _It seems that_ _someone has stolen the Death Note_. The fact that L was asking for his help meant that he was desperate. Well, in the wrong hands, incalculable damage could be done. But in the right hands…in the right hands, Light would live on, Kira would live on. And it wasn't enough, but it was something. It was a consolation.

Kira threw his head back and laughed, loudly and clearly, and L may have been long gone by then, but Kira hoped the laughter followed him through the hallways of the prison, and haunted his dreams.

* * *

Misa told the strange man everything, starting from the very beginning, when she first obtained her Death Note, to all that she and Light had discovered about how they worked. The man pressed her for the details of how ownership of a Death Note could be transferred to and from its possessors, and how precisely one could control a victim's actions before their death, and she obligingly answered all of his questions, sensing the urgency. She tried to remember all of the details, all of the rules, all of the ways it could be and had been used, but the past six years had brought so much and she had to stop and thing sometimes to make sure she recalled everything correctly. She told him all she knew about Shinigami, too; she wasn't sure if she should, at first, but the man wanted to know everything, and his knowing everything would help him save Light, so she withheld nothing. It almost seemed as if, once she started talking, she could not stop.

When she finished her voice was hoarse and she felt thirsty and drained. Who knew there was so much to remember, so much to tell? Her visitor inclined his head once again and said, "Thank you, Amane-san. Is there anything else I need to know?"

"Apples," Ryuk chuckled from the back of the room. "Don't forget to tell him about the apples."

Misa sighed and added, "Some Shinigami like apples—Misa's known one who did and another who didn't—but Misa didn't think that was important enough to tell you at first."

"Apparently, someone did," the man said, to Misa's bewilderment. "Thank you, Shinigami. I will be sure to keep it in mind."

Misa nearly fell out of her chair. "You can see Ryuk? How?! You're only supposed to be able to see him if you have—"

The man looked at his watch impatiently. "I'm afraid that's all the time I have," he said, ignoring Misa's astonished inquiries. Standing, he reached around for his jacket and pulled his arm through the sleeve. "Your cooperation was greatly appreciated, Amane-san. I now know enough to continue as I'd planned."

"But—" Misa began, dumbfounded, but the man stepped around her and was gone, and as the guard came back to take her to her cell, she was still shouting after him, but her only replies were Ryuk's laughter, and footsteps ringing out on a linoleum floor. And, from somewhere deep inside her, she felt a great weariness, and a pang in her heart.


	3. Heirs

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A/N: Happy weekend, guys! Hope you're enjoying the summer! Thanks to **Sam Brody or Moon Princess, Sarahfreak, Japanimaniac13, seasnake.756, Lady Eivel, Shadow-L-Chan, judikickshiney, Xhadow Kiss, WithABunny, Akito-Aya**, and **TheRecorder** for reviews! Thanks also to everyone who has faved this story or put it on alert. You guys rock.

_Speaking of rocking, **Akito-Aya** wins the Psychic Award for successfully predicting the…well, you'll see. Nice job. :D_

_All you fans of Mikami also rock. Sexy and insane is a dangerous combination. So, if that _was _him (which you'll find out this chapter), he has a lot of potential in a story like this to wreak some havoc. Oh my._

_So our cast expands…and keeps expanding. Wonder who will show up next?_

_Happy reading,_

_D_

_

* * *

_

_"The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."_

_- Proverb_

**3 - Heirs**

L remained silent for the ride back to Headquarters, but his mind was always working.

He consciously counted the buildings, iridescent against the night sky, as they rushed passed his window, blurred, hoping that they might distract him. A few times, he caught his reflection in the window, ghostly pale, and turned away. As he nibbled his thumbnail absentmindedly, he thought on what Light had said. It was something he hadn't inclined to believe, not at first, partially because of its inherent implausibility, and partially because of its implications for the world if it were true. Another Kira…who would pose as the original would make Kira seem even more godlike, having escaped imprisonment by the authorities. No, L knew too well that Kira himself was a man, Kira was Light, and whoever had stolen the Death Notes this time was just as human.

But whoever he was, this new Kira, he wasn't acting selfishly; he was doing exactly what Light said he would. The new owner of the Notes _was_ killing the criminals, and L had lied to Light again to see his reaction, to see if he knew anything about it. It could have been that Light had set this up, that it was all part of a grander scheme…

No, no, he couldn't let Light get to him, not Light, who was obviously so desperate that he was clinging to any consolation that he could in thinking that the new owner of the Note would emulate him. In a way, he was almost sorry, not for Light, who was guilty of the deaths of thousands, but for what the world was losing from Light being Kira, what Light was losing. He might have been a great detective. The loss of an intelligent mind was sad, dark, unfathomable, and Light had had so much potential. A pity he had not agreed to assist L in the investigation, although not unexpected by any means; the odds of him acquiescing were slim to none to begin with.

Well, there were others. No use dwelling on Light for _too_ long, now.

When L returned to headquarters, Chief Yagami was standing by the doorway, waiting for him. As soon as Watari opened the door for L, he approached the car, grimmer and more haggard than ever. Well, L supposed that that was only natural; his perfect son was Kira.

"Ryuzaki…" He began, sounding more tired and hopeless than L had ever heard him sound. "Did…"

L shook his head. "I'm sorry, Yagami-san."

A shudder passed through the Chief's frame as he sighed. "No, no, it's for the best. If I saw him again I'd hate to think what I'd do. My son…he's dead. That's how it is."

Studying Chief Yagami with wide eyes, L tried to find a lie, some small words of comfort, but came up with nothing. He wasn't adept at handling this sort of situation, so he said simply, "I would stay longer, Yagami-san, but I have some calls to make," and proceeded inside the building.

It was strange. He thought he would have already sold the twenty-three story building he had built specifically for his headquarters in Japan. After all, the case was over, and some company or hotel would be sure to want a location in the heart of Tokyo. And yet, it seemed that Fate had intervened to keep him in Japan. If Fate existed. Of course, Shinigami existed, so why not Fate? It wasn't too terribly much of a mental leap. Well, if Fate _did_ exist, she had a wicked sense of timing.

But that was all beside the point. After passing through the obligitory security checks, he proceeded to the main room, which had once been the center of a busy investigation. It was now deserted. For the time being only, L was sure. He settled into one of the chairs and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket by its antenna, opened it up, and found, folded inside of it, a scrap of paper. Now, this was the trick. His fingers hovered over the keys for a few seconds before he made the decision and dialed one of two phone numbers written on the paper.

The phone rang once, twice, thrice, and L's toes curled and flexed over the edge of the seat with impatience. When the phone clicked over to a generic answering machine message, he hung up and redialed. Well, it might take more than one call. After all, night in Japan was early morning in Los Angeles, California.

On the third try, someone did pick up. "_Matt_," said a man. He sounded groggy and agitated, and he spoke with a very slight accent. British. "If you're going to storm off who-the-hell knows where and stay out _all night_ doing who-the-hell knows what, wait until it's actually fucking _light_ outside before you call me, asshole!" The person on the other end slammed the phone into the cradle, and the line went dead.

Well. _That_ was interesting. L, who was not used to having someone hang up on him, and so forcefully, too, blinked at the phone quizzically, and then pressed redial with a somewhat mischievous intent.

The same person picked up the phone, now sounding doubly annoyed. "_Dam_mit, Matt! You just don't know when to stop calling!" L heard a sigh from the other end. "Well, I'm awake now, so what the hell do you want? Where are you?"

"I presume I am speaking to Mello?" L said, utterly expressionless.

"Shit," Mello said, and then L heard a clattering which he could only assume was Mello dropping the phone in anger or surprise or some combination of the two. He waited a minute for Mello's voice to return, and, soon enough, he heard, "Yes, hello, are you still there?"

"Yes."

A pause, and then, "Is this L?"

"Yes."

"Shit," Mello said again, then, apparently, realizing the sort of language he was using, and to whom he was using it, amended, "Oh no, oh fuck, I mean—"

"Is this a bad time?" L asked, slightly bemused.

"Well, I, no, I mean, I was asleep, but…" Mello stopped, as if to collect his thoughts. "Do you know what time it is here?"

"According to my phone, it is 8:37 pm here in Japan, which means that it is 4:37 am in Los Angeles, California, where you are now."

"Er, right." Mello sighed. "I'm so sorry, L. I thought you were Matt, and I can't think straight right now because of this…splitting headache…"

A hangover. Even L, who had never been intoxicated and had no wish to ever find himself in that condition, could tell that much. Inexperienced, but not naïve. Well, that almost made sense: if Mello were upset about something Matt had done, he might find that rather inefficient way to take his mind off of it. But the concept of Mello getting drunk was not altogether unimaginable but somewhat alien – after all, Mello had been fourteen the last time L had seen him. Now he was twenty, and different person. No, not a different person. People don't change. They never do. L tilted his head to the side and said, "I assume Matt is not with you. I'm calling for him as well."

"No." Mello sounded annoyed again, but not at L. "Haven't seen him since this morning."

"You two have had a falling out?"

"Yeah. I guess. Sort of. You could say that." Mello paused again, and L could almost feel his self-awareness in the faint crackle of static. "He'll be back, though. L, look, I—"

"You're probably wondering why I am still on the phone with you after I was dismissed and repeatedly insulted," L interjected casually. "Actually, you probably expect me to have a rather low opinion of you already, and are wondering why I bothered calling at all, after you ran away from the orphanage five years ago. If you're thinking that you've lost your chance to redeem yourself—"

"I'm not," Mello interrupted. "I figured it was urgent."

L nodded, something Mello obviously could not see. Now the boy was beginning to get with the program. "The Kira case," L said. "Someone new is killing criminals. This has not yet been reported by the media, but it is only a matter of time until they notice."

"So…so you want Matt and me to come to Japan to help you catch him?" Mello sounded suspicious. "I thought you operated alone."

"Usually. I have a team of investigators helping me in Japan, but they aren't like you two. I'm desperate, Mello, you may never hear me say that again, but if Kira returns now then I'll look like a fool. I've already reserved your plane tickets; the registration confirmation and all the information on the case so far was sent to you in an email from just a few minutes ago by Wata—excuse me, by Mr. Wammy. After you receive the information I'll have to ask that you destroy your computer."

Mello was silent for a minute. "What makes you so sure that I'll just do what you say?"

"I know you, Mello," L said, confident. "I know you ran away five years ago not because you were giving up, but because you wanted attention, and you wanted it on your terms. I know you are looking for that chance to prove yourself. And you do want to redeem yourself, even if you won't admit it."

A pause. Then, "Will Near be there?"

"I don't know," said L. "I called you first."

"Hmph," Mello said, but he sounded satisfied. Of course, he wouldn't have otherwise come. A door slammed over the phone, and L heard an indistinct voice saying something, and then a crash as the owner of the voice bumped into something. "Shit, Matt's back. Look, I'll—"

"See you in Japan," L said, and, without another word, he hung up.

* * *

Somewhere in Tokyo, the man who had visited Misa Amane unlocked his apartment door.

There was nothing unusual about that. Certainly, thousands of people unlocked their apartment doors every day and went inside without attracting the slightest bit of attention. But this man was different. He looked first to the left, moving his head only the slightest bit, then to the right, to make sure no one had followed him, or was watching him. When he opened the door, the little piece of paper he has stuck between the door and the frame fluttered to the ground. No one had come in. It was safe. He picked up the paper, pocketed it, and went inside.

Possession of the Death Notes merited some paranoia, after all.

He set down his briefcase and made his way into the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and various cabinets to see what he could prepare for a late dinner. Deciding at last that he wasn't hungry, he returned to the main hall, retrieved his briefcase, and went into the room he had set up as an office.

A small TV was nestled in the bookshelf, a desk stood in the corner, and, on top, a computer sat attentive, waiting, with an electronic hum. A pen lay next to the keyboard. As simple as that. All of the ingredients for murder, lacking only one. Who knew it could be so easy? But it wasn't time for that yet. First he had something to say.

He opened his briefcase and withdrew the Death Note. He always kept one with him, just in case. The other ones were hidden safely in a secret compartment in his bookshelf. Paranoid, perhaps. Practical…he would rather not have the Note found on his person, but without it he would feel naked. Vulnerable. There might be a better way…

Not now. Now was time to pray, not think. He grasped the Death Note with both hands and closed his eyes.

"Forgive me, Kira," he said. "I have killed your servant. But I didn't have a choice, Kira, and I think you would understand. I was kind to her. Forgive me."

He turned to the page of the note he had written in the previous day and held it up before him, reading it again and again: _Misa Amane, December 30__th__, 2009, 8:30 pm. Shares her knowledge of the Death Note and anything related with a man she believes to be her lawyer. Upon returning to her cell, she immediately lies down to rest and, some hours later, dies peacefully in her sleep._

"I think you would understand," he repeated. Then Teru Mikami set the Death Note on his desk, turned on his television, and did God's work.

* * *

It was almost one in the afternoon in Winchester. Gray, cloudy. Of course, one couldn't expect much else in the middle of winter. And yet the children at the orphanage still played outside, all bundled up in little hats and scarves, kicking a football or climbing on the play set or doing whatever else children did to amuse themselves.

Near had decided long ago that he didn't particularly like children. When he was little, they always came up to him unbidden and wanted to watch him do his puzzle or ask him to play, when all he wanted to do was sit alone and just _think_. Near knew from an early age that he was better at thinking than all of the other children, because he noticed things that they didn't seem to notice, and looked harder than they ever bothered looking. And all of the others would laugh and play and miss all of the things that he saw, and somehow both fear and admire him for it.

It occurred to Near that it might be odd, him having not yet left Wammy's House, the orphanage for gifted children where he had grown up, but the time never seemed quite right for leaving. Near figured he would know somehow when it was his turn to leave. Mello had left, foolishly, at fifteen, when he had finally become fed up with being second to Near in all of the ways that mattered, and Matt, Mello's best friend, had left at eighteen to find him. Near always had to shake his head at the thought of Matt and Mello. Near and Mello had been L's possible successors, with Matt a distant third, but after Mello had left it was clear what his path would be, and what Near's would be. Mello was too rash, too impulsive. Maybe it was best that he had left, and that Near remained to take L's place, but it was futile to speculate.

Near sighed and slid another puzzle piece across the floor, locking it in with the rest. Perhaps _this_ was why he stayed at the orphanage: for the almost limitless access to toys and information. His toys had, or course, grown more sophisticated as he had grown older and progressed to mystery jigsaws with thousands of pieces or incredible towers of tarot cards. Roger provided him with anything that might help him work.

As for information, Roger provided him with that, too. Roger, who oversaw Wammy's House in the founder's absence, acted as his Watari, his Quillish Wammy, just as Watari acted as L's representative, his eyes and ears, his informant. Ever since Near had become L's clear-cut successor, just after Mello ran away, he had been taking some of the more minor cases which L would take interest in, assuming some of L's lesser-known aliases. It was a win-win situation, as it allowed L to devote more of his time and energy to the Kira case, and gave Near a chance to gain some experience, and to make his inevitable transition smoother.

Unbeknownst to Roger, Near had been developing his own personas, his own aliases, on the side. Taking his own cases, those which would not benefit L, gave Near something more to work for, something to separate him from L, somehow. He was sure that, were L in his situation, he would do the same, just for the challenge. Just for the hell of it. Near was pretty sure that L knew what he was up to, in any case, but didn't give a damn either way.

Near played with his hair thoughtfully before moving another puzzle piece, clicking it into place. L didn't have much time to worry about what his successor was up to, and Near wasn't going to flatter himself by pretending otherwise. L would now be focused on this interesting new development in the Kira case—a case which should have been closed when the perpetrator was captured.

Apparently, it never ends.

Near shook his head and was about to continue with his puzzle when the screen on his laptop went white. Near knew what that meant. He always kept his laptop near for occasions like these. An instant later, the letter R appeared in the middle of the screen in a bold, gothic font. Roger.

"Near," Roger said through the computer, "I have an urgent message for you from L."

L? That was interesting. It wasn't often that he communicated directly with his…mentor, of sorts. "Patch him through," Near said, and repositioned himself between his laptop and his puzzle, so he could effectively deal with them both.

After exactly 6.4 seconds (Near had an excellent sense of time) the R changed to an L, and Near heard an electronic voice say, "Near. It has been awhile."

Near, knowing that both he and L would want to get down to business as soon as possible, acknowledged, "It has. Is this about the Kira case?"

It was difficult to tell through the computer, and the electronic filtration of L's voice, but Near thought L sounded as if he has expected Near to have already known. "Yes. I take it that you, also, have noticed the spike in criminal deaths over the past twelve hours."

"I have." Near fiddled with his hair again. "So someone has now obtained a new Death Note? Another rogue Shinigami? Or has Kira escaped, against all odds?" The last possibility was added almost as a joke.

"The Death Notes were stolen. Whoever now possesses them has no obvious connection to any Kira, alive or dead. After speaking with the original Kira, I have concluded that there is only a three percent chance that there is any kind of arrangement between the old set and the new."

Stolen. It would have been much more likely, Near supposed, that another bored Shinigami had dropped a Note, and, given all that they now knew about the Notes, that may have even made it easier. Still, if they were stolen, then he and L might have a lead. "Would you like my opinion?" Near asked. "Or, given the importance of this case, would you like me to work with you more directly?"

"Which do you think?"

It was a challenge, a test, and not a particularly subtle one. Perhaps L didn't have time for subtleties now. Very well. Near considered for a moment. "L works alone," he said finally, "But the Kira case dragged on much longer than it should have. And while it ended in Kira's capture and arrest, he gained a significant global following. If it appears that Kira has managed to evade L again, 'against all odds,' as it would seem, it would be the ultimate humiliation for L." Near paused. "You want my help. Ninety-nine percent."

"Correct." Again, L was not surprised. "It is a rather delicate matter, as you have said. I would like you to join me in Japan."

"You have already booked the flight, I assume."

"Yes. I sent Roger the logistics. I also sent you the information we have so far via email." L paused. "Tell me what you think of it when you arrive, but do not contact me sooner. I have a high opinion of your skills, Near, especially after your involvement in the Washington D.C. Embezzlement Cases."

The Embezzlement Cases had been one of the ones Near had taken on his own account. So L _had_ been following his actions, however remotely. And if L had been monitoring him, it was only logical to conclude that… "Understood. Will you be involving Mello as well?"

"I have already contacted Mello. He and Matt are flying in from LA." L paused. "Like I said, I want to get this solved, and solved quickly."

"Yes," Near said. "Evidently. It will be a pleasure to work with you."

He disconnected and returned to his puzzle. Now, it seemed, was the time for him to leave the orphanage, whether he wanted to or not. Soon he would have to prepare for Japan. But not quite yet. He had one thing left to do before he could pack.

Picking up his last puzzle piece, he slowly but surely pressed it into place. A completed puzzle was a beautiful thing. This one was entirely blank, but for the corner. A single letter, in gothic font. L. "That fits," Near murmured, then went back to his laptop, to brief himself on the case, and to tell Roger that he was finally going.


	4. Reacquainted

_A/N: Whee! New chapter! I just can't stay away from these guys for long, can I? Thanks to **Sarahfreak, Serria, judikickshiney, AceQueen, Shadow-L-Chan, PlanBB, Sam Brody or Moon Princess, Xhadow Kiss**, and **TheRecorder** for your absolutely fabulous reviews!_

_So happy to see an enthusiastic response to the gang's entrance. We see a lot of Near (who, while adorable, has never been my favorite) but Matt and Mello do not get enough view time in the series. Especially drunk Mello, who definitely isn't seen enough ever. -grin- And of course, the sexy and deranged Mikami, who, you can be sure, will definitely show up more._

_(General response to **AceQueen**) If you're jumping in now, late at all! We still have a ton of plot and stuff to go. In fact, this is the perfect time to start reading the story, we're mostly introducing people. Heck, I haven't even introduced my seventh and eighth points of view yet. (That's next chapter.) However, we _do_ get a new POV in this chapter, and it's a fun one._

_Keep reading and reviewing! I have a few chapters already written and on hold, so if you'd like to see them get put up more quickly, just say the word. This story is way fun to write._

_Love!_

_D_

_P.S. This chapter's quote is from a poem. I like Plath._

* * *

_"His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.  
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley  
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance  
Drains like water out the hole at the far end."_

_- Sylvia Plath, "Insomniac"_

**4 - Reacquainted**

When L finally made up his mind about what to do regarding The Light-Kun Question, it was far too late to ask Watari to drive him to the prison. He had to accept that some people actually _needed_ sleep. Besides, he was almost entirely sure that the traffic in and out of Light's cell was being closely monitored, and although his visitors only consisted of L and a few attorneys working on the Kira case (the prosecution, of course), a 3am visit might be seen as suspicious by the powers-that-be. Not that L had ever had any regard for the powers-that-be. This particular case, however, was supposed to be out of his hands, and L didn't want anyone getting the idea that he still had anything else up his sleeve.

So L had to wait, and waiting was never something that had sat well with him. In general, he hated being idle. That was one of the reasons why he hardly ever slept; it wasted too much time. He tried to distract himself with sweets, but those only worked to a point, and, after the taste of sugar dissolved entirely from his tongue, he felt empty. He checked the computer to see if any new information had come in regarding the new Kira or his victims, but nothing had. He even tried to sleep, though he despised it, but as long as he wasn't doing anything else…but he couldn't, which was to be expected. He had learned, after all, that sleep was something which came to him when he wasn't trying to think about it.

How much more interesting it had been when Light-kun was around. Not good, nor bad, simply more interesting. L had had an equal to talk with, to bounce theories off of, and those didn't come along very often for him. It was almost lonely, now, without him here. But thinking like that was juvenile and emotional. He had never been lonely before and didn't plan on being so now.

It would be livelier, he supposed, with Mello, Matt, and Near around. Less quiet. The last time he had seen them, they had been approaching adolescence. Now they would be grown, and there would be others like him to converse with. Not quite the same as Light, though. Near and Mello and Matt had been raised to conceptualize L, the person, as a position, a model, an almost unattainable ideal. And they each had their special way of dealing with this. Each of his heirs had their own ways of thinking of him through their limited face-to-face encounters. It had been easy for L to see even when they were children that Near respected L, the idea, but didn't like the person much, Mello liked both the idea and the person too much, and Matt was always somewhat indifferent to him.

Light had been different. Light had been almost refreshing. He hadn't even heard of L before the Kira case, and there had been times—not many, but there had been a few—where they had gotten along, almost like the friends they had pretended to be. Sometimes…when Light was…he had been…

Well, Kira, and that was the bottom line. And that had to _be_ the bottom line, for the sakes of everyone involved, and L knew that. But that didn't keep him from wanting Light back on his side for this one case. And perhaps he would get him back. Somehow.

* * *

"International travel is a bitch," Mello said loudly.

This was nothing new from Mello. He'd been like this all day: every little part of their trip, every step of the way had elicited a complaint, and Matt would have been annoyed by this incessant whining if it hadn't given Mello something to complain about besides him. Indeed, somewhere in the long check-in lines or the longer security lines or the even longer flight full of overly-saccharine stewardesses, Mello's fury at Matt (who, Matt supposed, Mello thought responsible for the previous night's humiliation even though it had been his _own_ bloody fault) had eventually been reduced to an internal simmer as little things got in the way. Matt didn't mind that too terribly much. Having to endure Mello's complaints was much better than having to endure his silence, somehow. It meant that they were on speaking terms.

"Did you hear me?" Mello asked, indignant. "I said, 'international travel is a bitch.'"

"Total bitch," Matt, who was paying more attention to his game at that particular moment, agreed.

Mello rolled his eyes. "Put that thing away, will you? It's getting on my nerves."

"Yes, boss." Matt turned off his DS and put it in his pocked with a smirk. "Whatever you say."

"And _don't_ call me boss." Mello's tone had a sharp warning edge. "We're not _with_ the mafia, so you don't have to act like you're answering to me." He took a bite of his chocolate bar. "Besides, we don't want L to figure out…"

"…what we've been up to? Mel, he's _L_, he's probably known about it for years."

"And don't call me 'Mel' either," Mello grumbled. That, for some reason, made Matt smile. Getting on Mello's nerves got to him like that, because he liked it when Mello's eyes narrowed and he ran his fingers through his hair and flushed with frustration. There was something exciting and dangerous about pissing Mello off, even though Matt was in no real danger – they'd somehow managed to remain best friends for more than half their lives without killing each other.

"Earth to Matt," Mello said. "Get with the program, you were staring into space again."

_Not exactly_, Matt thought, but played off of it with a well-timed "Huh?"

"We're almost at Customs. Focus."

Oh, yes. Customs. That was the real pain, especially when you didn't have a legit name or citizenship on record, like Matt and Mello. They had to obtain forged passports (not as difficult as it would seem, with Mello's connections) but memorizing all of the information on them was a major pain, and being able to recite it all naturally took a little work. Reciting it in Japanese, as Matt liked to do, took a little bit more work.

They both passed with flying colors, of course. They always had and probably always would.

"So, now what?"

"Now we wait," Mello said. "L said he'd send someone for us."

"Shouldn't have any trouble finding us," Matt remarked. "We stick out like sore thumbs around here."

Mello glared, but it was terribly true, although even if they weren't in Japan, Mello would stick out anywhere, with his blond hair and piercing blue eyes and penchant for tight leather clothing. Not that any of that looked bad on him, (especially the leather, he somehow kept himself in incredible shape) but it was simply hard _not _to notice him. _I probably stand out too_, Matt thought. _Just as much, with my stupid red hair. And the goggles can't be doing much for me here either._

A woman glanced at Matt and Mello as she walked by them, and Matt smiled at her. His reward was an elbow in the gut from Mello.

"What was _that_ for?"

"Cut it out, Matt. We aren't here to mess around."

"I'm just trying to be friendly. I'm sorry if that's a foreign concept. Oh, speaking of friendly—" Matt fumbled around in the pocket of his vest for a minute before pulling out a chocolate bar. "Here. I bought it at the Duty Free back home. It's Godiva. You know, the good stuff."

Mello glanced at Matt and took it without a word, but he was smiling a little now. "Yeah," he said, unwrapping the bar. "Don't think it means you're off the hook."

"Nah, I know you better than that." Matt was going to follow up with some kind of suggestive comment which Mello would have completely misinterpreted anyway (something lame about there being better ways to make it up to him) when they were approached by a older Japanese man in a clean brown suit and a tie.

"Matt and Mello," he said in English. "Welcome to Japan. Ryuzaki told us to expect you."

He held out his hand—which was unusual, but maybe the man was taking into account that he was dealing with foreigners—and Matt, who knew Japanese customs, bowed instead. He knew who the man was from the file that L had sent Mello: Soichiro Yagami, Deputy Director of the NPA. If L was trying to impress them early on, it was working. "It's an honor, Yagami-sama," Matt said in perfect Japanese.

Mello was looking at Matt with a little surprise and a bit of veiled admiration. Well, Matt had always been one of the kids who'd taken a particular interest at Japanese when they were till in the orphanage (because of its ties to his video games) and this was one of the few areas where he could claim an advantage over Mello, who'd only ever studied a year of the language. Yagami looked a little relieved, and Matt could understand, of course, that although he knew English well, he, like anyone, would probably be most comfortable speaking in his native tongue.

"I'm glad you've made it here safely," he said. "We are waiting on one more, and then I will take you to Ryuzaki."

Matt nodded, but Mello repeated, "One more…" as if he weren't quite satisfied with it. He nibbled the corner of his chocolate bar, and Matt saw him glance from side to side, though the crowds of people, and then stop, transfixed, as if he'd found—

But of course. There was Near.

Near would also have been hard to miss, actually, simply because of _his _unnatural appearance. He'd barely changed since Matt had last seen him—surely he was too old to still be so short? And everything about him was so pale, his hair, his skin, his eyes; Matt had always suspected that he had some form of albinism. And yet, in the shape of his face the baby fat was still so noticeable, and his wide, observant gray eyes were somehow wise and naïve all at once. It was a bizarre combination of traits, an old man and a child in one.

The fact that he was being pushed in a wheelchair made him even more noticeable, of course. Near had had weak legs ever since he was a child, eight or so (Matt had never bothered to inquire why), and even though he could still walk, he was slow, and preferred using crutches or being pushed. He sat in the chair in that same strange way that Matt remembered L having sat, with his knees drawn to his chest and his heels on the seat, completely disregarding the stares of passersby.

The man pushing Near's wheelchair was also familiar. Roger Ruvie was the caretaker of the Wammy's House, and when he saw Matt and Mello he stopped and stared, obviously surprised at their presence.

"Matt and Mello," he said in his very distinct British-older-man way. "I didn't think I would be seeing you two again."

"Roger," Mello said as acknowledgement, disregarding Near completely.

"Hello, Roger, Near," Matt added casually, remembering to speak in English now. "How's it going?"

"It's…'going' well, thank you. Everything is in order at the orphanage." Roger paused, and for a moment the only sound Matt heard was the crinkling of Mello's candy bar wrapper. "Well," Roger continued, realizing that no one was going to say anything else. "I see you've grown up." He eyed Mello's clothing with obvious disapproval.

"Mmnh," Mello replied, glaring right back.

"I'll take Near off your hands for you," Matt offered quickly.

"That won't be necessary," Near said. Matt wasn't surprised to hear that his voice hadn't changed either; it was as smoky and childish as ever. "Roger can accompany us to the car."

"Oh. Well, alright then."

Matt glanced at Mello, who was purposely looking anywhere _but_ at Near. Goddamn, was this awkward. He'd hate to see what effects the _other_ encounters would have on Mello. After all, it would be his first time seeing L in awhile, and he'd always admired L as much as he'd hated Near. Matt put his hands in his pockets and, switching to Japanese again, said, "I guess that's everyone."

"Then if you'll all follow me," Yagami said. "I will drive the three of you over to headquarters."

* * *

"I knew that you'd come back."

L, his hands in his pocket, blinked at Light. "Smugness does not become you, Light-kun."

"Well, I haven't had much to be smug about lately, thanks to you, so I'm doing what I can to make up for it," Light retorted, indicating his bound hands with a nod of his head. "And _don't_ call me Light-kun."

"Why not? It is your name."

Light felt like bashing L's skull into the wall, but that probably wouldn't go over too well with whoever was monitoring the security cameras, so instead he growled, "You're here to ask for my help again, aren't you? Well, ask all you want, L, I will _never_—"

"I know," L said. "I have not, in fact, come to ask for your help. I have come to clarify two points. The first is that I do not require your assistance after all."

_What was this_? _It couldn't be _true, _could it_? L wouldn't be able to find anyone who was better qualified to handle a new Kira case than the old Kira, Light was sure of that. Suddenly annoyed, he felt that he was losing his only means of power over L—holding off his assistance—and hell if he was going to give that up. "Whoever it is, they're not nearly as qualified," Light argued.

"I fully trust in their qualifications, Light-kun."

"No, that's not it. That doesn't matter. What you're _doing_," Light spat, "What you're _doing_ is bringing in some outsider who hasn't got a clue just to get on my nerves. That's not how it works, _L_. You need _me_ for this case, and I won't help you, so you're bluffing. A substitute isn't going to cut it, and you know it!"

"Perhaps a single substitute would not, no," L agreed. "But seeing as there are three of them and only one of you, I'd say that I might be able to manage with them well enough even if they aren't Light-kun, wouldn't you?"

A pause. _Damn_. Where had he been able to come up with the extra help so quickly? Light was sure that L was just doing this to piss him off. Better to move on and come back to it before he got too worked up. "You said there were two points," he snapped. "What was the second one?"

"Oh. Well, I have to admit that I haven't been completely honest with you, Light-kun."

"No surprise there."

"It is as you predicted," L said, ignoring him. "The new possessor of the Death Notes has been using them to kill criminals. The murders resumed almost immediately after the Notes were reported stolen."

Light smiled, feeling more relief and satisfaction than he had felt in a long, long time. "So you _have_ failed. Even if I'm killed, Kira will live on. Others will see to that. And if the killings continue…you, L, will look like a fool. And they will continue, because you've decided to use someone other than me as a pawn in your pathetic little game to help you catch the culprit."

"The position is still open to Light-kun," L said. "Should he choose to accept it."

This simple admission stung somehow, as if L were trying to beat Light over the head with his own obstinance. "Get _out_," Light snarled. "Get _out_. I don't want you to come back with your taunting and your mocking and your goddamn smugness. Get _out_, Ryuzaki—L—whoever the hell you are. And don't come back."

"As you wish."

L climbed off of the stool and moved slowly toward the door. As he did so, a series of beeps erupted from the right side pocket of his jeans. "Excuse me," he said, reaching in and pulling out his cell phone. "Yes, hello, what is it?"

Light could make out Watari's voice, indistinct, on the other end of the line, but he could only hear L's half of the conversation. "Really…now that _is_ interesting…yes, I'm with him now. Yes, I'll tell him. Thank you, Watari."

L closed his cell phone. "Well," Light asked, impatient. "What is it?"

The other man lifted his head and looked curiously calm. "I'm not sure how you'll take this," he said. "Misa-san was just found dead in her cell. As far as anyone can tell, it was a natural death, but—"

"The new Kira," Light said, with absolute certainty. "It must be him."

"I suspect so, but that's still difficult to prove if he wrote down the cause as 'natural death.' And Misa-san's life span was already so short because she'd made the Shinigami eye trade twice." L paused, and chewed his thumbnail. "I do agree, however, that the most likely cause, considering recent events. But tell me…" He eyed Light blankly. "Are you not sorry for her, Light-kun? Do you not feel _anything_?"

Light hesitated. "Misa…was a criminal," he said. "It doesn't matter that she was infatuated with me. She killed innocents, those police officers at the TV studio—I could never forgive her for that."

"She did it for you."

"I know. That's why I found it disgusting."

Little Misa Amane, that blonde bubble of pure energy…she'd always been so devoted, so obsessive, so easy to manipulate. She used her powers for selfish reasons. On a personal level he'd never quite grown attached to her, and as Kira, Light had seen her as nothing more than a tool. Perhaps she had died as someone else's tool. Perhaps…the new Kira used her death to gain true ownership of one of the notebooks. At least for now, the other one would still belong to Light, who could be killed just as easily. He wouldn't be, though, and he was confident of it, because he, unlike Misa, was the original Kira. Whoever was using the notebooks would not kill his idol.

"You haven't forgotten the FBI agents, have you?" L asked suddenly. "Do they not count as 'innocents?'"

"They were in the way," Light responded. "I think you're confusing 'criminal' with 'idealist.'"

"Oh, am I? I'm terribly sorry." L offered him a stiff shrug as an added, mocking apology. "Well, now that that's settled, I don't expect you'll be seeing too much of me, Light-kun, unless you change your mind. Good day."

"Good_bye_."

Watching L leave the cell, Light could hardly think straight, he was so peeved. So this is how it was: L had thrown him to the ground and was now kicking the dirt in his eyes. Maybe he'd never really wanted his help. Maybe he'd known all along that Light wouldn't give it. Maybe he had just been toying with him, gloating. He probably had been, the self-assured jerk. God_damn_ him.

He thought he could do this without Light, but he was wrong. He couldn't. He couldn't do this without Light. Maybe he would have been able to before, but not now. So maybe coming back and baiting Light like that was some self-indulgent way of making himself feel better. That bastard.

And yet…

Maybe there was still a way to beat L at his own game.

Yes, there it was. Let L think he'd won. Let him think that he had Light down on his knees, at his mercy, begging him to use his "get out of jail free" card on Light. Let him think Light _had _decided to help him after all, had a change of heart. And then…

And then, strike when he wasn't looking. The new Kira was obviously smart, capable, and strategically reliable as a steadfast Kira supporter. If Light could find a way to contact him without L knowing, perhaps through Ryuk, if the new Kira could figure out how to manipulate him, he could arrange something. Yes, he'd be able to work something out. He knew he would. He's been able to avoid capture for five years, and the only reason he'd been caught at all was absolutely rotten luck. This time, if the cards played in his favor, he'd win round two.

Kira strikes back.

"Hey!" he called. "Hey! I need to use the phone!"

No response. He glanced up to the cameras. "I know you're listening. I'm entitled to a phone call. Let me make the damn call."

Still nothing. "I _know_ you're there!" he shouted. "Let me—"

The door to his cell opened again, and Light stopped. Standing there, looking as if he'd never for a second actually considered leaving, was L, calm and composed as ever.

"I believe," he said, "that the appropriate response would be 'Just as planned.'"

* * *

_Hum, did you notice how Light went from thinking about Misa to thinking about himself all in one paragraph? Selfish Lighto._

_Alas, Matt, poor child. His diction was all over Mello. How well is _that_ gonna turn out?_

_I suppose we'll have to wait and see. I'll get writing; nothing better to do until camp! :D_


	5. Assembly

_A/N: Okay, so my friends and I just pulled an all-nighter watching five of the six episodes of Star Wars (56123), so my Author's Note might be a little fuzzy. The chapter won't be, because, thank goodness, it was written previously. _

_But I am putting this chapter up now, in honor of tonight's kickass episode of Death Note airing on Adult Swim._

_I also posted a oneshot, _Observations, _a couple of days ago. If you like B, you might like it._

_Thanks to **Sarahfreak, Mizu1411, LawlietIsJustice, Shadow-L-Chan, AceQueen, OkageHime, judikickshiney, Sam Brody or Moon Princess, TheRecorder,** and **Xhadow Kiss** for reviews! And thanks also to those who story alerted or faved the story. Feel free to comment, I love hearing from you! :)_

_I love Matt lots. He's just so normal-by-comparison; I can't resist him. Mello is also one of my favorites._

_Bit of a warning, actually: Some hints of a thirteen-year-old Mello having some kind of crush on L. Not a big deal or important, but explains some of the reasons he's frustrated. Just thought I'd give you a heads up._

_Have fun reading this chapter! Last two POVs revealed. Who could they be?_

_Head hurts, more later,_

_D_

* * *

**5 - Assembly**

Mello was a bizarre mixture of annoyed, apprehensive, and excited, and it was really beginning to piss him off.

It was all goddamn Near's fault, really. It always _was_ Near's fault. Little Boy Genius was sitting in the back seat next to Matt, as calm and as quiet as could be, and Mello hated it. He hated Near's logic-without-emotion; what a goddamn robot. No, scratch that, he just hated _Near_. Even so, he kept remembering something that Near had told him years ago: that his emotions would get him into trouble one day.

Thinking of that just made Mello angrier.

_Fuck_.

He didn't _want_ to be nervous about seeing L again. He should have gotten over the L-induced nervousness at thirteen. Of course, it was a different type of nervousness now than it had been then. Now he just wanted to…redeem himself? Prove himself? Hell, even _he_ wasn't sure what he wanted.

Surly, he put his feet on the spotless dashboard of Chief Yagami's car, fully expecting to be told off for it. The good Chief just glanced disapprovingly at Mello out of the corner of his eye, saying nothing, and then focused on the road again, both hands firmly on the wheel.

Craving a distraction—or, perhaps, desperate to prove that he had the same brilliant observational skills as _Near_—Mello decided to study Soichiro Yagami. Serious-looking man. There were gray streaks in his hair and crow's feet near the corners of his eyes, his face was gaunt, and his tailored suit hung on his body a little too loosely: a sign of recent weight loss, and not the good kind. Mello nibbled his chocolate bar. Yagami was pale, too, and exhausted. It looked as if something was eating him up from the inside.

_Well, that tends to happen when you find out your son is Kira_, Mello thought wryly. _I wonder if he denies it or blames himself. Probably both._

"I love Japanese cars," Matt said suddenly, looking up out the window. "They really know how to make them over here."

Mello turned around to glare at him and tell him to shut the fuck up, but was met with an inquisitive stare from Near. Creepy little bastard. Mello rolled his eyes and looked back at the road, Matt returned to whatever stupid Game Boy game he was playing, and no one said anything else for the remainder of the trip.

After awhile navigating the streets of downtown Tokyo, Yagami pulled into an underground parking garage. The building they were under looked just like any other old office building in the middle of the city, but it must have been the Kira Case Headquarters. _Good camouflage,_ Mello supposed. _Being right out in the open like this._

"We're here," Yagami said. Or, at least, that's what Mello guessed Yagami said. Wasn't his fault he'd only squeezed in a year of Japa-freaking-nese before running away from Wammy's. Didn't matter. Yagami was mostly talking to Matt, anyway, and Matt would translate.

Yagami was saying something else, but Mello didn't pay much attention until he heard Near say, "That's alright, we don't need to get our stuff yet. I'm perfectly fine making it up an elevator."

Oh. So Near understood Japanese, too. Whoop-de-do.

Mello opened the door and got out of the car without a word. He munched rather angrily on his chocolate bar as he watched Matt and Yagami help Near up and out. The chocolate was doing nothing to calm his nerves. He was just remembering his teenage years, having to put up with this little freak. He'd always hated coming second to a kid who couldn't even _walk_ properly. That was why he'd run away from Wammy's House, in all honesty. He was tired of being second. Wammy's rankings didn't technically matter in the real world.

He'd decided to go exploit his talents in a way Near never would—joining up with the mafia. More aggressive action than Near or even L would ever dream of taking. Oh, L wouldn't approve, of course, but it was better to be Number One in that one way than to constantly be stuck behind a crippled albino midget or whatever Near was.

Well, he didn't really think L's approval would ever matter to him again, and yet, here he was, in Japan, helping him with the Kira case. Matt had been right, somehow, that L was L and managed to keep tabs on people, but Mello didn't believe that, with how busy L was, he'd have the time to follow with what Mello and Matt were doing over in the States. Even if he was the world's greatest detective. The world's _three_ greatest detectives.

Near managed to make it to the elevator without falling, which was good for everyone. Matt elbowed Mello when Yagami wasn't looking.

"Matt! What the hell?"

"What the hell yourself." Matt looked concerned. "You okay? You're angsty enough to make a MySpace page jealous."

Mello ignored Matt's weak attempt at humor. "It's just _Near_," he muttered. "I can't _stand_ him."

"I know," Matt said, pocketing his Game Boy. "But if you're going to prove to L that you're, you know, grown up and mature and all that, you better start acting like it."

_Dammit_. Matt could _always_ see right through him. "You should just mind your own business," he snapped.

"You know I'm right," Matt said. He'd usually smile when he said something like that, just to irk Mello a little more, but he didn't this time. Maybe Mello was spreading the mood around.

He sighed. "Fine, Matt. Fine. You know what? I won't trip Near, or steal his goddamn crutches, or anything. You know I'm more grown up than _that_, at least."

Matt's face lit up. "I know. Do you remember that one time you _did_ steal his crutches, though? The look on Roger's face…"

Mello didn't smile, but he felt a little better, and the two of them followed Yagami and Near to the elevator. The door closed, and Yagami turned a key in a slot and pressed the button marked with a 5.

"Usually, you'll have to pass through security whenever you come or go," Yagami explained in English. Perhaps Near had told him of Mello's linguistic setback. Brat. "But Watari hasn't put you three in the system yet, so the key allows us to bypass the first floor and head right up to the main investigation room."

"Sounds good," said Mello, trying to break out of his shell. Usually _he_ was the social one, and Matt was the one who didn't talk. But when Matt was fluent in the language and Mello wasn't, apparently their roles reversed.

"Watari's Mr. Wammy, right?" Matt whispered.

"Right," Mello replied. "You read the case file."

"And we call L 'Ryuzaki.'"

"I guess." That would be pretty bizarre. Mello secretly hoped L didn't enforce that particular rule. He liked knowing L as "L," and nothing else.

The elevator doors opened, and the first things Mello noticed were the screens. Big screens, small screens, PCs…Mello could see why L designed the place like that; it was perfect for this sort of investigation. The task force members would be able to focus on multiple things at once. In fact, they were doing so right then. A few of them were watching different screens, all tuned to different news stations. The room itself had a sort of modern feel, and two staircases led up the sides—to rooms, maybe, or to private offices. What was most conspicuous to Mello, though, was not what was in the room, it was what _wasn't_ in the room.

"Where's L—er, Ryuzaki?" he asked, trying to adopt his best Japanese accent.

Yagami frowned. "He was here when I left…"

One of the task force members, young, maybe ten years older than Mello if that, turned around, approached the Chief, and started speaking rapidly in Japanese. Mello could follow a few words but was utterly lost after that. He glared. The man cut off when he saw them and looked a little confused.

Matt turned to Mello and translated while Yagami explained who they were. "He said L left a little while ago with Watari. He doesn't know where they went or when they'll be back."

"Soon, I hope," Near said. He'd sat down on the floor and taken a Rubik's cube out of his pocket, which he fiddled with absentmindedly.

"Don't like to be kept waiting, do you?" Mello asked. "Impatient little…"

"Pot, kettle, Mello," Near replied. "You haven't changed at all."

Luckily, Yagami spoke before Mello could open his mouth again. "This is Touta Matsuda," he said, indicating the younger man who had spoken to him before. He looked at the other task force members, who had come over to see what was going on, and said, in Japanese, "These are L's heirs, Matt, Mello, and Near."

"I'm Aizawa," said a man with very distinctive hair.

"Mogi," said a tough-looking man. Mello's type of guy.

"Ide," said the last man. "Welcome to Japan."

"Thank you," Matt said, speaking for all of them.

"Aizawa speaks English well enough, as does Ide," Yagami said to Mello. "Your friend can translate for any of the others." The youngest one, Matsuda, looked a little sheepish—apparently, he didn't like being behind. Mello couldn't really blame him.

And then, after a moment of awkward silence, he heard what he'd been waiting for. The elevator cables, moving behind the doors. He stiffened, looked over his shoulder. Matt winked. God, what an obnoxious—

The doors opened. And there was L again. Just like Mello remembered. A little older, a little more tired, but still L. Natural black hair, pale skin, bags under his enigmatic dark eyes. He had one thumb in his mouth and peered out at Matt, Mello, and Near with interest, looking pleased.

Mello was thrilled to find that he felt absolutely nothing.

Except for a little bit of indignation. Because why was _L_, world's greatest detective, chained at the wrist to some Japanese prettyboy?

Mello looked at the faces of the investigation team to make sure that they were also surprised, and that this wasn't something L did habitually, and was relieved (sort of) when he saw shock on each of their faces. He kept his face composed, obviously, as did Near (damn him), but Matt was gawking. Mello was vaguely amused to see a vein bulging in Yagami's forehead. Well, this whole handcuff thing was odd, but not _that_ upsetting…

"Hello," L said pleasantly, in English. "Matt, Mello, Near. Glad to see you've made it in safely."

"L," Near replied, the only one who was apparently in control of his voice. He blinked inquisitively at the interloper. "Would you mind introducing us?"

"Oh, yes." L glanced at his wrist, as if remembering the handcuffs. The man he was chained to looked at L's heirs with interest. "I forgot that you haven't met. This is Light Yagami."

Matt blinked. Mello was shocked. "You can't be serious. He shouldn't—he _doesn't_—why the hell is _he_ here?"

Light Yagami—Kira—seemed amused by their reactions. Mello wanted to punch the smirk right off of his face.

"Be polite, Mello," L said firmly. "Light has agreed to help us with this investigation. I want you to treat him like you would any other team member."

_Like_ hell_ I will_, Mello thought. _Working with _Kira. But all he did was unwrap a new chocolate bar and bite down on it. Hard.

Near _and_ Kira? This was going to be more difficult than he'd ever imagined.

* * *

Matsuda wasn't quite sure what to make of the new team members—L's heirs, the Chief had said. They were so, well, so…not like Ryuzaki at all. Except for that one, the one playing with the Rubik's cube. The pale, quiet one. The other two seemed almost normal. Well, the one with the red hair sort of did, except for those funny goggles. The one wearing the leather seemed sort of intimidating and grouchy.

Okay, who was he kidding? They weren't normal at all.

"I don't know what to think about them," he said to Aizawa.

"Who?" Aizawa asked. "You mean L's heirs?"

"Yeah, those three."

"For God's sake, Matsuda, keep your voice down." Aizawa shook his head and sighed. "They're foreigners, but they _can_ understand you. I think the red-haired one is fluent in Japanese."

"Oh." Matsuda glanced over at the odd trio, who was currently being instructed by Ryuzaki, and saw Light looking at him. Light smiled, but there was a sinister edge to his expression, somehow _mocking_.

Matsuda flinched. With or without L's heirs, he doubted anything would be normal ever again. Truthfully, his first instinct when he saw Light handcuffed to Ryuzaki again was to greet him enthusiastically. He hadn't seen Light for a couple of weeks. And then he remembered _why_ he hadn't seen Light for a couple of weeks, and, well, so much for that.

He still couldn't really get his head around it, this whole Light being Kira thing. He _liked_ Light. Light was personable, and clever, and helpful, and didn't outwardly treat him like dirt. But, at the same time, Matsuda couldn't really forget his face, either, when they had to restrain him to keep him from slaughtering Ryuzaki, ripping him to pieces, the night…well…the night they found out. So he'd tried not to think about Light, not even when he was asked to testify against him at the trial. Light was his friend. And Kira…Kira was sort of his enemy? He quite wasn't sure. After all, the world had sort of been better with Kira around, judging people, hadn't it? No, no, that sort of thinking…that wouldn't do.

Shaking his head, he noticed the Chief sitting in a corner, hands balled into fists on the armrest of his chair. He felt really awful for Chief Yagami, actually. They'd had to restrain him, too, when they found out about Light, to keep him from killing his son, or Ryuzaki, or himself, or…well, anyone. He'd been livid. Ashamed. He looked, right now, that he didn't know what to do with himself.

Matsuda walked over to him. "Hey, Yagami-san."

Chief Yagami turned his head away. "What is it?" he asked, his voice broken and full of anguish.

"I just…" Matsuda fumbled around for words, and came up with the lame, "Wanted to see if you were okay."

The Chief didn't say anything, but his expression spoke for him, saying plainly, "I won't be 'okay' for a very, very long time," and Matsuda couldn't help but feel a little angry at Light for doing this to his father.

"Isn't that something?" he rushed. "Ryuzaki's heirs. I'd never have imagined. More Ls. They're like his little brothers. Or son—something." No, not sons. Anything but sons.

"Look," Chief Yagami said suddenly. "I don't need your pity."

Matsuda was taken aback. "I don't, er, I mean, no pity, sir." He paused. "I just wanted to see if there was anything I could do."

"Actually," Ryuzaki said, behind him.

Matsuda groaned. "Do you want coffee, Ryuzaki?" He swore he heard Light snicker. He didn't like this new Light very much.

"Thank you, Matsuda-san, but that won't be necessary," Ryuzaki replied. "I was just about to assign everyone to their tasks for tonight." Just then, Matsuda noticed Mogi, Ide, and Aizawa standing behind Ryuzaki. Oops.

"Oh, alright."

"First…let's see." Ryuzaki paused, as if going over a list in his head. Ryuzaki was like that. "Mogi-san, I want you to go over the list of the new Kira's latest victims. Ide-san, check the Internet for any rumors. Aizawa-san, the televisions. Also, familiarize Near with the computer equipment."

_Busy work_, Matsuda thought. None of the others complained, though. "Um, Ryuzaki-san," he said. "What about your, er…" He peered over at Matt and Mello, who were talking amongst themselves, and Near, who was playing with his Rubik's cube.

"Oh, I've already instructed them," Ryuzaki said. "Near, I already said, will be with Aizawa. Matt's going to see what he kind find out about Misa-san's death independently. Mello has some…connections with the criminal underworld. He's going to get in touch with them and see if they've heard anything about Kira's murder weapon falling into anyone's hands."

_So, _not_ busy work._ Matsuda sighed. Somehow, he wasn't surprised that the blonde one had those sorts of connections. Matsuda thought it was sort of interesting, actually, how Ryuzaki didn't use the honorifics when referring to his heirs. Perhaps he was just used to talking about them like that.

"Excuse me, Ryuzaki, but what will _you_ be doing?" Aizawa asked sharply. He'd somehow never completely trusted Ryuzaki.

"Oh." L glanced down at the cuff on his wrist, shook it, then looked back up at the investigation team. "I haven't made the terms of Light-kun's stay here clear. I was hoping to discuss them with him in private."

"Terms_?_" Light asked. It was the first thing Matsuda had heard him say since he came. He sounded bitter and, oddly sarcastic. "So like you, _L_."

"_Light-kun_." Ryuzaki looked at him, and Light glared, and something seemed to pass between the two of them that no one else understood, much less Matsuda. Light smiled. Ryuzaki sighed. "Call me Ryuzaki again while you're here, Light-kun."

"It's going to take the entire evening for you two to _talk_?" Aizawa asked, sounding a bit incredulous.

"Not the _entire_ evening." Ryuzaki glanced at Light again. "But, as you can see, Light-kun and I still have some _issues_ to settle." He turned back to them. "Which reminds me, Yagami-san, I want you to take the night off tonight."

"What?" Chief Yagami looked up. "Why?"

"You should spend time with your family. Go home. Have dinner. I think you might need some time to deal with Light-kun's return."

Matsuda knew the Chief wanted to catch Kira more than anything, and he saw a myriad of emotions flicker across his face before he conceded. "You're right. It's probably for the best."

"Good. Now that everything's settled—"

"Wait!" Matsuda interjected. "Sorry, Ryuzaki, but what about me?"

Ryuzaki looked as if he had honestly forgotten Matsuda. Light _did _snicker this time, but at Ryuzaki's mistake, not at Matsuda. Thankfully. "Oh, of course. Matsuda-san. You should—"

"Come to dinner with me, Matsuda," Chief Yagami said.

Matsuda was surprised. Even _Light_ seemed surprised. "What? Really?"

"If Ryuzaki allows it."

Everyone looked at Ryuzaki, who, unruffled, said, "Sure, Yagami-san. You may take Matsuda-san with you."

Matsuda got the sense that there was an "_I don't have any other use for him_" attached to that statement, but he didn't care. He liked the Yagami family, and he sort of wanted more than anything to get out of Headquarters right then. He followed Chief Yagami into the elevator, smiling. Perhaps dinner—a nice dinner, with a nice family—would be normal.

Normal would be something to look forward to.

* * *

_Hum, don't actually think I'll show that dinner, I'll probably just refer to it later. Too much else going on._

_I apologize for Mello's angst. He is jetlagged. It happens._

_So, POVs: We have L, Light, Misa (now defunct), Near, Matt, Mello, Mikami, and Matsuda. AAH. WHAT SHALL HAPPEN._

_Well, what do you guys think? ;)_


	6. Shiny New Eyes

_A/N: Well, for all of you who wanted to see and L and Light fight, I'm sorry to say it, but not in this chapter. Oh, I mean, of course they _do _fight, but we come in on them the next day, and miss it. :(_

_Fear not, you will get it, just not now. Instead, we get some Matt and Mello interactions, some Mikami, because the plot must advance, and some plotting by the investigation team. Also, some odd smugness from Light. Did he really beat L up last night or something?_

_Thanks to **Shadow-L-Chan, Lightning Sage, TheRecorder, ospreyed, fantasies4eva, meEksiNs, Maniacal Muffins, AceQueen, lunarsensitive, Iaveina, Sam Brody or Moon Princess, **and **Xhadow Kiss **for reviews!_

_I'm glad everyone's enjoying the story! Have fun with this chapter, too._

_Love love,_

_D_

* * *

**6** **- Shiny New Eyes**

"No, seriously, _she_ was Light Yagami's girlfriend?"

Matt caught Mello rolling his eyes. It wasn't as if he was trying to hide it. Matt's name had probably been written in Mello's Book of Annoying ever since they'd settled into their rooms at Headquarters. First, there was the unsolicited "Hey-Mels-I'm-going-to-hang-out-in-your-room-for-a-bit." Then there was the even _less_ solicited "Hey-Mels-let's-work-together." And this was probably the third or fourth time Matt had mentioned Amane, loudly and clearly. If he got his ass kicked, he'd damn well deserve it and wouldn't blame Mello at all.

"Yes, Matt," Mello said impatiently, working at his own computer (a new one, which had been generously purchased by L after Mello destroyed his own laptop). "We've been over that. Misa Amane was Light Yagami's girlfriend. Fiancé for a little while. But the _important_ part is that she was the Second Kira, and she was murdered yesterday. Now can you stop—"

"Yes, but no one told me she was _hot_."

Mello sighed. "There was a picture of her in the case file, Matt. And her occupation was listed as 'model.'"

"But that picture was a _mug_ shot," Matt protested. "I mean, she was cute in that photo, but, wow. Some of her modeling pics…" He whistled. "Look at them."

"I can't. I'm busy."

Which was quite unfortunate, actually. Because if Mello chose to look at the photos of Amane on Matt's laptop screen, he would see that Misa Amane was slim, and blonde, and wore tight black clothing. Hell, in some of her photos, she even had blue contact lenses. But Mello refused to get with the program, so Matt rather reluctantly closed Model Misa's website and said, "You're just ticked off because I was right. L did know we were with the mafia."

"Shut up, Matt."

Matt stood up and crossed the room to where Mello sat at his desk, working. The rooms L had provided them with were really very nice, and well-furnished. Matt and Mello had an entire floor to themselves, and Near was a distant two floors below. Matt had already taken the liberty of throwing some of his clothes and game consoles around—his definition of "unpacking"—before coming over to see Mello. Japan was proving not to be so bad, even if he couldn't leave Headquarters to look for video games.

He stood behind Mello's chair and remembered, vaguely, a phase Mello had gone through when he was eleven, when he would always try to imitate the way L sat. Mello liked to spread himself out, now, not curl up into a ball, and he sat with his legs apart, boot heels rocking on the floor.

"I did tell you so," Matt said. "Looks like L wasn't too terribly upset about it or anything, so what's the harm?" Mello frowned and typed something, unresponsive. "He thinks your connections might even be useful."

"Ha. My _connections_." Mello snorted. "Some help they're proving to be."

Matt peered over his shoulder. "How do you even get in touch with the mafia, anyway? I mean, it isn't as if there's a Yahoo group for 'mafia.'"

"I have my ways," Mello said, and Matt couldn't tell if he was joking or being completely serious. "It isn't as if you can get out very well once you're in. But no one's biting. That is, there are plenty of fish, but…"

"None of them have heard of Kira's murder weapon?"

"No. Although, a few of them would be willing to pay me quite a bit for it."

"Sweet, let's quit the detective business and buy an island." Matt grinned and walked back to his computer, set up on Mello's bed. "Well, I'm relieved to know that the Death Notes haven't fallen into the hands of any wayward mafia men, at least."

"I have to be honest, I didn't think there was that much of a chance of that in the first place," Mello said.

Matt nodded, then reached into his pocket for a cigarette, ignoring Mello's glare and his growl of "Matt, if you light up in here, I swear…"

He ignored Mello and lit the tip of the cigarette. He couldn't really help it that this was so frustrating. So few leads. How were they supposed to get anywhere?

At least Mello was being endearingly grouchy. "…and you know I _hate_ it," he was saying. "If you're going to smoke, do it in your own room. I don't want you stinking up mine." He glanced over at Matt. "You doing anything over there _besides _looking at pictures of Amane?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Matt sat up and turned his computer toward Mello, flashing him the screen. "Hacking into the records of the prison where she was held. I want to see if she was visited by anyone before her death."

"You think the new Kira just dropped by to have a chat before killing her?"

"He might have. What if he wanted something else?" Matt countered. "Information, maybe? Or what if he wanted to see if Amane could help him, and she refused?"

"Huh." Mello came over and sat next to Matt, nibbling on a chocolate bar. "And…?"

"And…I'm in." Matt smiled. It was so easy. So much for heightened security. "Let's see…Amane, Misa. Here we go. Looks like a couple of lawyers visited her in the last few days."

"Lawyers?"

"Yeah, probably planning the case. Nothing suspicious."

Mello leaned forward, frowning. "Anyone can fake an ID, Matt. Who were they? The lawyers?"

Matt squinted. "The last person was 'Masao Tanaka' at 4:00pm yesterday."

"Crosscheck him."

Sighing, Matt obliged, pulling up the list of people working on the case even though he wasn't sure what Mello was trying to prove. "Yeah, he's one of the assistants to Amane's defense attorney. Why? What are you thinking?"

Mello sat back again, leaning against the headboard. "See if you can get any of the security camera footage for that day. I'm curious."

"Alright." It took Matt a minute, but he managed to recover the footage. Luckily, everything was done by computers nowadays. It was simple if you knew your way around. "Here we go. You want me to look at all of it? No…just when Tanaka visited, right, Mel?"

Mello smiled. "You know me too well. But _don't_ call me Mel."

"Whatever you say, doll." Mello threw a pillow, which hit Matt right between his shoulder blades. "Okay, okay, fine. No need to get so worked up over it. Here's the footage from the sign-in desk." He positioned the screen so that Mello could see better. "That's Tanaka. Looks perfectly…hey."

Mello smirked. "'Hey' is right." He leaned forward again. "Now why would someone wear the hood on their jacket up like that if they weren't trying to hide their face?" He looked a little more closely. "Check if it was raining that day, Matt. Doubt it was, though."

Matt checked. It wasn't. "Still, that doesn't prove anything. He could just be—"

"How tall would you say that man is, Matt?"

Matt blinked, taken a little aback. Glancing at the screen again, he considered. "Well, it's a little hard to say because of the angle, but, maybe…5'7"? 5"9'? That sort of range."

"Hmm." Mello looked thoughtful. His eyes shone. "Seems taller, though. Definitely young, you can tell from his posture. Thick, dark hair—it's sticking out from under the hood." He paused. "Can you find for me what Tanaka looks like?"

"Where the hell am I supposed to find _that_ out?"

"It doesn't matter; we can just ask L later. He probably knows." Mello pointed at the man on the screen. "Bet you anything the real Tanaka's not that young, and that the 'Tanaka' on the video is our guy." He smiled. "Excellent."

"Why?"

"Well, if Kira had just _killed_ Amane by writing her name in the notebook, it wouldn't mean as much. There were rumors floating around on the Internet about Amane's sudden disappearance. People thought she might have been involved with Kira because of the connection with her parents. If our new guy just decided to listen to those rumors, he might have decided that he wanted Amane out of the way." Mello shook his hair out of his face. "But if he went to see her, if he knew where she was de_tained_, Matt, and he used the name of one of her attorneys, it means he has to be involved with the case somehow." He frowned. "Or someone could be leaking information to him from inside the case, and we'd be absolutely nowhere. Fuck."

"Actually," Matt said. "If we followed around the people involved for a few days, we could see if any of them are acting suspiciously—you know, secret meetings, that sort of thing. We could catch the spy, _or_ the new Kira."

"Genius," Mello said, more to himself than to Matt. "I bet Near hasn't made himself this useful yet."

"Sweet," Matt replied, giving his best friend a thumbs-up. "So, now that we're done with that, let's see what's on TV."

Mello glared. God, the man changed so quickly. It wasn't even as if Matt had said anything _offensive_. "Go do that in your _own_ room, Matt. I'm going to watch some more of these security tapes you pulled up, then go to sleep."

Matt reached for the remote anyway. "How long can you possibly do that, Mel? It isn't as if you're going to find anything else. You really need to learn to loosen up. Not take things so seriously."

"Matt. _Out_."

"Fine." Walking out and closing the door behind him, Matt sighed and hoped, secretly, that the word "sleep" wouldn't always be associated with "kick Matt out of the room." He sighed again, smiled, and went to his own room to play his games, alone.

* * *

Teru Mikami was not at all surprised to see the Shinigami.

It could have picked a more convenient time to find him, but he supposed Shinigami had their own agendas. He ignored it, then, when he first glimpsed it out of the corner of his eye, walking home from work. He wasn't sure whether he was supposed to have seen it or not, but there was nothing he could do about it, no way he could reasonably react, with all of these people around. If he started talking to himself in the middle of the street, he would look completely insane.

Mikami walked calmly to his apartment building, as usual, appearing completely normal. He unlocked the door carefully, as usual, made sure no one had entered his apartment, and closed the door behind him. He then set his briefcase down, sat in one of his kitchen chairs, and waited.

"It's no fun if you aren't surprised, you know," said a low, grating voice behind him.

Mikami looked over the back of the chair. Staring at him with curiosity was one of the oddest creatures he'd ever seen. Tall and slender, with a black body. Black feathers sprouted from its shoulders, and its white neck, a striking contrast, seemed to be stitched on to the rest of it, as if it wasn't quite in the original design. It had an odd, angular half and wide, bulging eyes. Its thick lips, barely concealing sharp, white teeth, seemed stretched across the lower half of its face in a perpetual grin.

"We've met before," he said, inclining his head. "It's an honor, Shinigami. I have a gift for you."

The Shinigami's eyes lit up. He chuckled. "Oh?"

"Yes." Mikami reached into the fruit bowl he'd set up in the middle of the table and held out an apple. "Here you are. I heard you like them."

"Hyuk hyuk. You heard right." The Shinigami took the apple and devoured it within seconds. "Mmm. You don't know how long it's been since I've had one of those."

"Having to follow Amane-san around these past few months must have been difficult for you," Mikami remarked wryly, turning his chair around. "I'm Teru Mikami."

"Ryuk," said the Shinigami, amused. "I know your name already, Teru. But you learned all of that from Misa." He seemed disappointed. "I can't even deliver you the same speech I gave Light, hyuk hyuk. You stole all of my fun."

"Light. Kira." Mikami was interested. How had Kira, his God, handled this same situation? He leaned forward. "What was he like?"

"Light?" Ryuk cocked his head to the side. "Well, you should keep in mind that he was only seventeen when I first met him. He was very innocent, and very surprised. He wouldn't admit it, though. He was proud even then." He glanced at the fruit basket. "Do you have anymore apples?"

"Just a minute." Ryuk would be useful to have around. And his weakness for apples might be easy to exploit. Mikami would have to concentrate on him now and think about Kira later. "I want a favor."

"Hmm?"

"Do the eye deal with me."

"Already?" The Shinigami's grin stretched a little wider. "You know you have to give up half your lifespan, right? You aren't worried about the consequences?" Mikami shook his head. "Alright, then. You humans…"

Ryuk stared at Mikami, his eyes glowing. He grinned menacingly. Mikami stared back, blinked, and closed his eyes instead, prepared for some degree of excruciating pain. None came. A little tingling beneath his lids, that was all he felt. He opened his eyes again. Nothing had changed, but somehow—it may have been his imagination—he felt stronger. Powerful. Ryuk regarded him expectantly.

"Nothing _seems_ different," Mikami said.

"Look in the mirror," Ryuk replied.

Understanding, Mikami stood so suddenly that he nearly knocked over his chair. He ran to the hallway, to the rectangular mirror which hung on the wall by his door, and stared into it expectantly, his eyes wide and flashing.

It was as if the world had shifted into photonegative for the briefest of moments. Mikami's black suit seemed to glow against his skin, skin which now looked black in comparison. The blue wall turned red, behind him, and the green leaves of a potted plant turned pink. He knew from what Misa had told him that this would happen anytime someone new entered his field of vision, this shift. Just for a moment, as long as it took to read a name. He could almost ignore the colors, though, because above his head…

He saw his name, _Teru Mikami_. His own name. No lifespan, but that was to be expected. Amane had said so. Mikami smiled.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Don't thank me," said Ryuk. Mikami hadn't even realized that he'd been followed. "It's your funeral, so to speak. I've heard it said that possession of the Death Notes is a curse."

"No," Mikami replied softly. "No, it's a blessing."

He looked, again, in the mirror, and then laughed and laughed in a way that would have made Kira proud.

* * *

"Wake up, Light-kun."

Light didn't respond, and L sighed. He'd forgotten what a chore it was to have to wake Light up in the mornings. It had, after all, been awhile. When Light's only response was to turn over and away from L, L shoved at Light's shoulder. "Light-kun. Now."

"Oh, god_damn_," Light muttered, opening his eyes. L watched with some degree of—completely justified—amusement as the younger man sat up, startled, his eyes widening and then narrowing. He glanced down at his wrist, the one with the handcuff on it, and looked a little puzzled, then followed the length of the chain to where L was sitting, on the bed, looking at him.

"Remembering where you are?" L asked wryly.

Light shook his head, then smirked. "I remember perfectly," he said. "And how are _you_ this morning, L?"

"It is 'Ryuzaki' here," L corrected sharply. "And I'm fine, Light-kun. How are you?"

"Of course. 'Ryuzaki.' It must have slipped my mind." All traces of confusion completely gone, now, Light eased back under the covers and stretched, looking somehow smug. "I am wonderful. It's the greatest feeling in the world waking up to your arch nemesis in the morning, knowing that—"

"If Light-kun continues to be difficult, I will not hesitate to throw him back in prison," L said firmly.

"Sure." Light yawned, not seeming bothered in the slightest. "What time is it?"

"6:45."

Light seemed surprised. "Honestly? That's a little late for you. Did you decide to take pity on me and let me rest? Did you think I deserved it, after all you've put me through?"

The last couple of questions were loaded with sarcasm, and L replied with withering seriousness. "You do not deserve _anything_, Light-kun, regardless of what I may or may not have put you through. However, I know from experience that your mind works best when it's rested, so I decided to let you sleep. I have been awake for a couple of hours already." He indicated the laptop balanced precariously on his knees.

Light nodded, still seeming very self-satisfied, and turned over onto his stomach. "So, I'm assuming you want me to get up now?"

L ignored him and said, "Yes, that would be the plan."

"You and your _plans_." Light rested his head on his arm and looked up at L, who had a very good idea of what the young man was trying to do and wasn't going to play along at all.

"Light-kun is in extraordinarily good spirits this morning."

"Ryuzaki isn't."

"Perhaps Light-kun suspects that his being in a good mood will somehow annoy me." L fixed him with one of his most pointed stares. "It isn't working."

"Shut up," Light snapped, but L could hear that his heart wasn't really in it.

"Now that _that's_ settled," L said, "you're going to have to get up. I remember very well how long it takes for you to get ready in the morning." He turned off his laptop, began unfolding his legs from his usual crouch, and winced.

"Something wrong, _Ryuzaki_?"

"Moving about after sitting in the same position for so long is uncomfortable even for me."

"Right," Light said skeptically, smirking again and sitting up. "Well then, I'll go shower now."

"I won't stop you."

Light stood, pushing himself up on the nightstand. "I'm probably going to have to throw you in there after me," he remarked loudly. "I know you're a germaphobe, but admit it, you don't shower regularly unless someone forces you. Watari's the only one who gives a damn about you, but I won't put up with that if we're going to be chained together again."

L wanted to snap out some kind of reply—about how Light was being obsessive compulsive, and that L was the one making the rules around here—but Light was, sadly, right, so L got up with a vengeance and almost dragged him into the bathroom, careful to avoid looking at his prisoner and seeing the telltale smile on his face.

After they'd both washed and dressed (L had had Light's clothes brought to Headquarters, and Light took far too long to select what he was going to wear), L pulled Light down to the kitchen. L, loading up on the usual doughnuts and coffee, noticed that Light didn't eat very much. But he _must _have been hungry, after being stuck in the jail for that long…well, L wasn't _concerned_, per se, but if Light were determined to starve himself or some other ridiculous thing, then the investigation would suffer. Perhaps he just hadn't worked up an appetite yet. Either way, L wasn't going to let it bother him.

They arrived at the main investigation room, and L wasn't at all surprised to find Near, Mello, and Matt waiting to report to him. Near and Mello had to have learned by now that waking up early would be key to their success. Matt was inherently lazy, the true reason that he was always third, but L knew that Matt would do anything that Mello did, so, yawning and sleepy, he was also present. He looked more tired than anyone, although Mello was trying desperately to conceal his jetlagged state and failing. Near, as usual, showed nothing.

"Report," L said, folding himself into a seat by the large screens.

"The new Kira is working with someone involved in the case," Mello and Near said in unison.

Mello broke off towards the end of the sentence and glared at Near. "How the _hell_ did _you_ know?"

Light rolled his eyes. Although L's heirs spoke in English, L knew that Light could understand everything they said, and was incredibly amused by their bickering. L sighed, lamenting that he would probably have to keep Near and Mello separate if he wanted them to be at all productive. "One at a time, please, starting with Mello."

Mello looked pleased. The only way to get him to do anything, L knew, was to have him do it before Near. "Matt and I discovered a few telling clues," he said. "The new Kira must either be involved with the case or have a mole leaking him information. What I want to know"—he glared at Near again—"Is how Wonder Boy here managed to figure it out without the access to the same information we had." He bit into a chocolate bar.

"That's easy," Near said before L could stop him. "After Aizawa familiarized me with the system, I looked up some of the 'Kira's murder weapon' related rumors circulating the Internet and decided they were too inconclusive to be acted upon, much less to get a picture of what said weapon actually was. Therefore, the person who stole the notebooks had to have a more coherent way of knowing what they were after. Also, a case insider would have had a much easier time of procuring the notebooks."

Mello's lips formed an unspoken "Oh." He looked somewhat indignant. "But that's merely conjecture," he protested, taking another bite of his chocolate bar. "We have _evidence_."

"Yes?" L asked eagerly, before Near could jump in with a reply. Near stared down at the robot he was playing with, evidently just as condescendingly amused with Mello (a bit unfairly so) as Light was.

"It isn't much," Matt said, walking forward with a laptop under his arm. "Just to clarify, didn't want to get your hopes up."

"Fine. Show us what it is," Light said, a little too impatient. It was the first time any of the heirs had heard him speak, and they stared at him. He stared back, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Matt, open the laptop," Mello commanded, adding a special glare for Light. Matt obliged. _They never change_, L thought. "Just prior to her death, Amane was visited by a Masao Tanaka," Mello continued. "This 'Tanaka' was caught on the security tapes of the prison. Suspiciously enough...I checked this morning, and the security guards on duty when 'Tanaka' visited are dead."

Matt held up the laptop. "Here's a freeze frame of the security tape," he said. "Best visual of 'Tanaka' that we could find."

L stared at the picture, chewing on his thumbnail. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Light for a reaction. If Light knew this man, by sight…but Light did not react, not outwardly, and L studied the picture himself.

"This is not Masao Tanaka," he said.

Light looked at L, surprised. "How can you say that?"

"I checked every single attorney working on your case, Light-kun. Masao Tanaka is 5'4", balding, and 46 years old."

"I figured as much," Mello said, smiling. "Just that this man wasn't Tanaka, though, not that he was so physically different from the real one. So, now we at least have some sort of profile of our new Kira, _and_ we know that he works on the case."

"The best thing to do, that is,"—Matt glanced at Mello—"_we_ thought the best thing to do would be to shadow the attorneys for a bit, see if anyone's acting suspiciously."

"If you want to get everyone killed, then, yes, that's a great plan," Light said. "But go ahead, don't let me stop you."

"_Light-kun._" L glanced sternly at Light, who leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. "No doubt you know what he's referring to," L said to his successors. "The incident with the FBI agents in the first year of the Kira case. However, I don't think we'd need to worry about a repeat. There's a ninety-six percent chance this Kira won't act in the same way you did."

"You're that sure." Light obviously didn't believe him. "And why is that?"

"No doubt, Light-kun, if the new Kira has read up on your case, he knows that killing off the FBI agents trailing him was one of Kira's biggest blunders. He wouldn't risk doing that himself, not if he wants to remain Kira." Light looked away. "Instead, our new Kira, this 'Tanaka,' would want to appear as normal as possible. In doing so, he may slip up, allowing us to narrow down our suspects."

"I think that's the right way to go about it," Near proclaimed. "If he notices, he might get nervous, and in getting nervous, he might give us a clue."

"I don't think you're giving him enough credit," Light muttered, but L ignored him.

"When the rest of the group comes," he said, "We'll discuss who will follow whom."

* * *

_Hmm, wonder how Mikami will take that, eh?_

_And I wonder what was going on in Light-kun's head. Why so smug, Light-kun? He must have beaten L up._

_Have a good week! Ima run off to see _Get Smart_ now. Take care!_


	7. Close Encounter

_A/N: I am so sorry to be updating this late! You can blame two things, and they both start with C._

_Actually, this is IMPORTANT: the first one is **Camp****.** I was packing for my Nerd Camp today and did not get to start this chapter until far too late. I will be gone starting today at 8am, and will be back on July 18th. No computer and no internet access mean no updates until then. However, I will work as hard as I can to get something up to you when I return._

_The second one is **Code Geass**, a wonderful anime that I've been watching for the past few days. The two lovely main characters decided to take over my Death Note sector. Anyone else love it? If you do, there is too little fanfiction for it out there, so Lelouch Vi Britannia commands you to write some. Now. –eye shines– God, I am so lame. I may write some, but it'll have to wait until I come back._

_Now, the good stuff! __Thanks to **Vera-Sama, Sarahfreak, fateHASu, OkageHime** (I know _you _like Code Geass, dearie), **AceQueen, Iaveina, Star Jinin, Serria, Akito-Aya, Shadow-L-Chan, MeEksiNs, TheRecorder, **and** Xhadow Kiss** for reviews!_

_And how do I repay you guys? Not even a real chapter, just a third of a chapter. ToT. But I needed to get SOMETHING up because I WILL BE AWAY. So here you all go._

_I can't leave the story hanging like this, so think of it as motivation for dear old D to write more._

_And yes, if you're curious, there _was_ a three-week time gap between the last chapter and this one. Light says so._

_Have a great three weeks!_

_D_

* * *

**7 – Close Encounter**

"Why hello, Light."

Light looked up. The grating voice had come rather unexpectedly from his left, and, in the main investigation room, there was nothing there but steel wall. To enter without him noticing, the speaker would have to have passed through that wall without making a sound. Impossible.

Although for a Shinigami, that was, of course, no trouble at all.

Clenching his fists, Light longed to respond with some kind of casual "Hello yourself, Ryuk," but he couldn't. Not while L was sitting not six feet away, munching on a strawberry as if everything was perfectly normal.

It might as well be, to L. Ignorant L. Light had no way of knowing if the detective had touched the Death Note Ryuk haunted. He'd certainly handled Light's, and the one that had belonged, so long ago, to Higuchi, but, as far as Light knew, Misa's Death Note had been confiscated by the authorities and hadn't been handled by anyone else. If Light was lucky, L hadn't gotten his greedy little hands on it, and was completely oblivious to the presence of their supernatural guest. He hadn't reacted to Ryuk's entrance, so Light thought that was a safe assumption to make.

L _had _noticed Light's reaction, though. He saw Light's white knuckles and asked, "Is there something bothering you, Light-kun?"

"No," Light said calmly, ignoring Ryuk's chuckles in the background. "Nothing at all." He blinked at the screen. "Actually, I was looking at this trend. As Kira, it alarmed me a little."

"Trend?" L repeated, wheeling his chair over and chewing on his thumbnail. He leaned in. "What is that?"

Light pointed. "This data. The new Kira—we're calling him X-Kira now, apparently—has been killing at an astounding rate."

"How would that alarm you?" L asked.

Light ignored his tone of voice and continued, "It seems that X-Kira has been killing a little less discriminately than I would. He's been eliminating those who commit crimes without malicious intent. Accidents and so forth."

"Is that so?" L peered at the computer screen, and Light turned his head away, both giving L space and using the opportunity to raise an eyebrow quizzically at Ryuk.

"Well, don't mind me," Ryuk said. "Hyuk hyuk. I didn't think I'd be seeing you around here again. And with this same guy." The Shinigami grinned a little more widely. "He's very persistent, isn't he?"

Light rolled his eyes. L was still scrolling down the lists of X-Kira's latest victims and didn't seem to notice.

"Before you ask—or not—I didn't come because I was bored." Ryuk laughed. "Oh, no. This new Kira is very interesting. Almost as interesting as you were, Light. He even asked me to find you. You know, make sure you were okay. He seems to care a lot about his God." Ryuk's laugh was really beginning to annoy Light. Light had forgotten how grating it was. "I told him that I was going to write your name down, and I knew that you weren't dead. Not yet." His eyes shone.

"This really is incredible, Light-kun," L mused.

"Well, he persuaded me in the end," Ryuk continued.

"Apples," Light said.

"What was that?" L asked, looking at him curiously.

"I had a sudden craving," Light snapped. "Continue looking at that data. The trend became much more prominent in the part few days, you'll see."

"Light-kun is being much more cooperative today," L said, but obliged.

Ryuk cocked his head to the side. "How did you know?"

"It's very easy to read," Light said to L, and Ryuk laughed again.

"We've known each other for too long, then," the Shinigami said. "Yes. He promised me a bucketful." He paused. "You're probably wondering who he is, aren't you?"

Light blinked, but said nothing.

"Of course you are. But you probably already know that I am not permitted to reveal any names to you." Ryuk seemed to be enjoying this. "I will say, however, that he does not appreciate being trailed."

Unable to outwardly react to this news, Light tapped his pencil against the desk impatiently. "It's been more than three weeks since he took the Death Notes," he said. "We were bound to see some sort of change. No one's mindset would have been able to match mine completely."

"I see," said L. "Yes, that makes perfect sense."

"I don't either," Ryuk continued. "It makes it so difficult to talk with him. So boring." Obviously sensing that he would not get any other response, he looked from Light, to L, then to Light again. "This conversation has gotten stale fast, hyuk hyuk."

"I think we're just about done," Light said out loud. "With this list. You get the point."

"Yep. I'm outta here," Ryuk said. "Have fun with your investigation. I'm going back to the real action." He grinned one last time, and was gone, vanishing right through the wall, as silently and unobtrusively as he'd come.

It seemed suddenly, oddly quiet, and Light breathed out, leaning back in his chair. His mind whirled. Damn Shinigami had never been informative. But if he came back…"He seems to care a lot about his God," that was what Ryuk had said. If Light could find a way to communicate with X-Kira, maybe through Ryuk, then he could give X-Kira orders directly. Then he could work around L…

L was still looking at the screen, his thumb in his mouth. He was completely deadpan as he said, "Light-kun keeps interesting company."

Light started. "What?"

Turnign his chair, L looked Light straight in the face. "You didn't think I'd let one of the notebooks slip by me, did you? I touched Misa-san's notebook after the police did, to make sure that if anything extreme ever happened, her Shinigami would be visible."

Light couldn't believe it. He didn't want to. L was bluffing. But how…? "You saw Ryuk?"

L blinked. "Of course," he said, bored. That _bastard_. Light could _kill_ him. "The entire time. I was disappointed, frankly; he only revealed that X-Kira was among those being trailed in the last three weeks, which doesn't narrow down the list of suspects significantly, but if we can somehow use the—"

And that was when Light lunged.

* * *

_Light's finally snapped and--what? It ends here? Am I _crazy_?_

_No, pressed for time. Forgive me, and I'll see you soon. :)_


End file.
